


Growing Pains

by Laurelin (Lintelomiel)



Series: Growing Pains [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Family, Loss of Virginity, Personal Growth, Romance, Sexual Content, Shyness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 12:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 188,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lintelomiel/pseuds/Laurelin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Filanna is not at all happy when she has to leave her beloved Mirkwood and visit Lothlórien with her father and brother, but she soon realizes that her meeting with the Galadhrim will have a greater impact on her life than she had bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Horizons

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Julie (chapters 1-18). Later chapters unbeta'd.
> 
> Be warned: This is shameless Haldirmance. I have tried to create a likeable and believable OC for him to fall in love with, a venture in which I hope to have succeeded.
> 
> This story was written between 2004 and 2011, including a long interval during which I focused solely on finishing the _Pilgrim_ series. I was inspired to write some Haldir/OFC of my own after reading the wonderful [Elanor's Revenge](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/1704116/1/bElanor_bs_bRevenge_b), which I heartily recommend.

_Behold: a slender arrow sticks fast in my heart,_  
 _and cruel Love lives there, in my conquered breast._  
 _Shall I surrender? To go down fighting might bank the fires._  
 _I give in! The burden that’s carried with grace is lighter._  
 _I’ve seen the torch that’s swung about grow brighter_  
 _and the still one, on the contrary, quenched. (...)_  
 _Look I confess! Cupid, I’m your latest prize:_  
 _stretching out conquered arms towards your justice._

~ Elegy II: Love’s Victim (Ovid’s ‘Amores’, Book I), transl. from Latin by A.S. Kline

 

_Lórien, April_

Suddenly, from one moment to the next, there they were.

Even though her Ada had prepared her for it, their appearance took Filanna by surprise. She had never visited Lórien before, but she had heard stories being told about the valiant wardens of the border, who knew the skill of camouflage like no other and could pass through a forest without being seen or heard. Now, as if to demonstrate that renowned stealth, they suddenly materialized from between the trees right in front of her party, which consisted of herself, her father and brother, and their armed escort of Mirkwood warriors. The wardens were without exception tall, muscular and handsome, but it was the colour of their hair that caught Filanna’s attention above all. Whereas in Mirkwood the warmer shades of blond were prevalent, these elves had hair that shimmered pale as mithril.

_Just like Celeborn's_ , she thought. The Lord of the Galadhrim had visited Mirkwood once during her life, and although she remembered him only vaguely, she did recall how intrigued she had been by his silver, near-white tresses.

The wardens that had appeared looked at the group of riders with kindness and mild curiosity, their bows resting idly in their hands. Even though Filanna and her companions were riding with their hoods up, their clothing and bearing betrayed their elven identities, and the Galadhrim would not deny their kinsmen passage into the Golden Wood.

One of the wardens stepped forward and spoke. "Hail, friends! You wear the colours of Mirkwood, but who are you and what brings you to fair Lothlórien?" He spoke Sindarin, but with a slight, lilting accent that betrayed his Lórien tongue and sounded quite pleasant.

Filanna's father reached up and lifted the hood away from his head, revealing his golden mane and the strong, handsome features of his face. "I am Thranduil," he said. "Your Lord and Lady know of our coming."

The wardens bowed, greeting the Mirkwood King with due respect.

"I am accompanied," Thranduil continued, "by my eldest son, Rínion..." – the elf beside him pulled his hood back as well, revealing noble features that were strikingly similar to the King's – "... and by Filanna, my youngest daughter."

The leader of the wardens bowed his head for Filanna’s brother and then looked up at the King uncertainly, one elegant eyebrow slightly arched in puzzlement. There was a silence, and Thranduil glanced at his daughter, whose face was still obscured by the hood. “Filanna?”

She did not hear him. Her eyes had fallen on the longbow the foremost Galadhel held in his hand, and the beauty of it held her so enthralled that she had stopped paying attention to the conversation. It was a mighty weapon, tall and well-crafted, and clearly much heavier than her own slender bow. The wooden surface had a polished shine and her fingers itched to touch it, although she did not fool herself into believing that she would actually be able to handle such a weapon. The process of lifting the bow, pulling back the string, aiming and releasing properly would take more muscular strength than she would ever possess. It was a frustrating thought.

When finally she realized that her father was trying to get her attention, she felt embarrassed for having been caught in a daydream in the presence of at least a dozen of Lórien’s finest warriors.

"Yes, Father?" she said guiltily, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Take off your hood, muin-iell. Show yourself to our friends the Galadhrim."

She did as he asked, braving the wardens' surprised stares a few short moments before casting her eyes down uneasily. They had without a doubt mistaken her for just another warrior of the King's guard, or for a second son at best. How could they have guessed that it was in fact a princess hiding under that cowl? She hardly looked the part, dressed in a tunic, leggings and boots, armed with bow and quiver and wearing her hair in a sober, single braid. Her masculine riding style made the illusion complete. Her identity was such a shock to the wardens that they forgot to greet her properly. Instead, they just stared at her.

"My daughter Filanna," Thranduil repeated.

Recovering, the foremost elf bowed his head slightly. "Well met, Your Highness," he said, and the others murmured similar greetings.

Filanna stared at her own fingers as they fumbled with strands of her horse's mane, wishing with all her heart that she were somewhere else. Oh, she hated this, she really did! Once she was back in Mirkwood, she would kill Ameria. And Saelwen and Dineth as well. She would kill all three of her sisters for making their father believe that taking her on this trip to Lothlórien was a good idea.

Oh yes. She would kill them.

"You are going to _love_ the Golden Wood, sister," Dineth had enthused. "It is such a beautiful place!"

"The Galadhrim are very hospitable and interesting," Saelwen, the eldest sister, added.

"And the males are handsome!" This from Ameria, the youngest of the three, who looked up at the sky with an expression of sheer bliss, her hands clasped together under her chin. "Especially the warriors. Handsome and strong and... able." The three of them had gone into a fit of conspiratorial giggling then, and Filanna had mentally yawned. Such silly creatures, those sisters of hers. Thought of nothing but gowns and males, males and gowns, and occasionally of the children they hoped to bear their future husbands someday.

She wanted other things. And quite frankly, hanging around in Lothlórien while her father and eldest brother discussed politics with Celeborn and Galadriel was not even near the top of her list.

This trip to Lothlórien had come up two months earlier, when the entire family was gathered round the dinner table one evening. Her father, who corresponded with Celeborn and Galadriel on a regular basis, had set a date for his next visit to the Golden Wood, and it went without saying that Rínion would go as well. As his father's heir, who had been prepared for the throne ever since he was a child, he accompanied the King on many of his travels.

And all of a sudden Ameria had said, "Why do you not take Filanna with you as well, Ada? She is old enough and has never been outside of Mirkwood. It would be a wonderful experience for her."

To Filanna's horror, her parents had actually liked the idea, and although she hadn't had the heart to protest, she had made no effort to conceal her lack of enthusiasm either. But apparently her opinion was irrelevant. All seemed convinced that this trip was exactly what she wanted.

Even her mother had not understood her unwillingness. Instead, Queen Aeriel had done her best to try and make her youngest daughter see that it was a golden opportunity to expand her view and learn more about one of the other elven cultures, even make new friends. Filanna had listened silently, not believing even for one second that she would truly make friends in that strange and distant realm. Her shy nature was far too great an obstacle. She didn't even have real friends in Mirkwood, but what did it matter? The company of her family and animals was enough.

In the end, the only real comfort had come from the youngest of her brothers, as always. Legolas understood her better than anyone, and while she adored her parents and loved all her brothers and sisters, there was a special place in her heart for Legolas. Born less than thirty years apart, they had been playmates in their youth, and as adults they were still very close, even though Legolas was a warrior and therefore often away, in the field with his company. While she, on the contrary, was supposed to stay at home, behave like a lady of the court and do meaningless things like attending balls and teas, making embroideries and discussing with the other ladies the merits of whatever eligible bachelor had caught their eye this time. Her sisters were naturals, fulfilled that role with grace, but not Filanna. She disliked social occasions in general, had never really learned to handle a needle, and males did not interest her. And the latter sentiment, fortunately, seemed to be mutual. At least no one had ever made an effort to pursue her.

"Cheer up already," Legolas had said, embracing her. "I am sure it won't be as horrible an experience as you think."

"Perhaps, but I wish you could come too," she pouted.

"So do I. But you must promise me that you won't spend your time there sulking around." His blue eyes gleamed with amusement. "It is a wonderful place... with lots of tall trees for you to climb, Filly."

"Do not call me that," she chided him, but she said it with a little laugh. It had always been his pet name for her and he was one of the very few allowed to use it. "And how would you know these things? You have never been to Lórien either."

"All the more reason for you to take a good look around and tell me all about it when you return. There, how is that for an agreement. Do I have your word on it?"

She had sighed and made the promise, albeit reluctantly. And now, sitting astride her horse, she sighed again. All this would have been perfectly bearable if only Legolas could have come with them and kept her company.

"Welcome to Lórien," said the Galadhel who had led the conversation so far. "My name is Rúmil. Since you are expected by the Lord and Lady, we will not detain you further. My brother Orophin will ride with you to Caras Galadhon and lead you before Celeborn and Galadriel."

One of the wardens bowed and disappeared between the trees, to fetch a horse most likely. Thranduil and Rúmil conversed for a few minutes until the one called Orophin returned, leading a horse by the rein. He mounted it in one fluent motion, indicating that he was ready to depart. With the last parting greetings, the Mirkwood elves took their leave of the wardens and followed Orophin deeper into the forest.

Filanna guided her horse to walk beside her father's. "Why do we need an escort, Ada?" she asked him quietly. "Can we not find the way to Caras Galadhon by ourselves?"

Thranduil smiled. "I am sure we could, but the company of one of the border wardens ensures us a swift and smooth passage. No other patrols will stop us when they see that we are escorted by Orophin, so there will be no more delays. We will reach Caras Galadhon before the sun sets, pen tithen. Are you excited?"

She smiled back at him as cheerfully as she could, and hoped that it was convincing. No matter how little this trip meant to her, he genuinely thought he was doing her a favour and she would never willingly hurt her father's feelings or cause him disappointment. "Oh yes, Ada, very much."

It was only a little lie. After all, she had heard much about the capital city of Lórien and was curious if it would truly be as wondrous at the tales suggested.

As Thranduil had predicted, they were not stopped again that day. They rode for several hours without seeing any more wardens, even though Filanna knew they had to be there. She could occasionally hear Orophin conversing with the King and Rínion, but to her relief, he never addressed her. He did look her way a couple of times, but she ignored him and continued to ride alone, not returning his gaze.

When at long last Caras Galadhon came into view, Filanna was, admittedly, awed by the sight. It was a city of trees on a hilltop, and the mellyrn were without a doubt the most majestic trees she had ever seen. Giants of nature, they towered over the approaching group of riders and made her feel tiny in comparison. When the gates opened for them and they entered the city, Filanna had to tilt her head back to look at the many stairs, bridges and telain high above her. She had lived in a forest all her life, but their city could hardly be more different; while the Mirkwood Elves had built their homes on the forest floor, the Galadhrim lived high above it, spending most of their time in the trees rather than under them. Filanna even saw small children running over narrow bridges, engaged in wild play; were the parents never afraid they'd fall?

All stopped their horses and made to dismount. Orophin was on his feet swiftly and took Filanna's horse by the rein, gallantly offering her his free hand, but she ignored it and dismounted by herself effortlessly. She had a lifetime of experience with horses, and was a far better rider than any of her sisters, who were rarely seen on horseback. In fact, she was as good a rider as most of her father's warriors.

If her behavior surprised Orophin, he was gentlemanly enough not to show it. She had not fully realized how tall he was while they were on horseback, but now that they were standing in front of each other, she had to look up to meet his eyes. They were of a remarkably bright grey, but at the same time warm and... friendly. They also held a merry sparkle that reminded her a little of her brother Darwain, who was the jokester of the family. When he smiled at her, she found herself smiling back, until it occurred to her that he might be one of those 'able' warriors her sisters had talked about, and she felt heat rise in her cheeks at the thought. She averted her eyes quickly, looking at her horse instead and taking the rein from Orophin's hand.

"Where are the stables?" she asked to hide her embarrassment.

"They are nearby," he replied. "But the horses will be seen to by the stable staff, milady. The Lord and Lady are waiting."

"May I visit him later?" she asked, stroking her stallion's grey neck. "I would like to make sure he's comfortable."

"Of course, milady." Filanna thought he looked at her a little oddly, but it could be just her imagination. It was not such a strange request, was it? She loved her horse and was used to handling him herself; she did not like the idea of leaving him in the hands of strangers, capable though they may be.

She reluctantly left her horse behind to follow Orophin, who led the way over some of the many paths and stairs that made up the city's infrastructure. They climbed ever higher, winding their way around the mellyrn of Caras Galadhon, all the way up to the hall where Celeborn and Galadriel held residence. The Lord and Lady were waiting for them and welcomed them warmly, inquiring after the latest developments in Mirkwood. Filanna tried to remain attentive as the others talked, but she had heard it all before and her thoughts soon started to stray. Judging from the light falling through the canopy, the day was dwindling quickly. This was a pity, as she was impatient to start exploring. Contrary to what Legolas had thought, she had never intended to spend her time here sulking; she loved being outdoors, and what she had seen of the Golden Wood so far certainly looked worthwhile. And with her father and brother engaged in politics for the next two weeks or so, she would have plenty of time on her hands, that much was sure.

At one point, her wandering gaze crossed that of Orophin, who was still present in the hall as a silent observer. His presence unnerved her, though she could not fathom why. He seemed nice enough, but she wished he would stop throwing her those curious glances. It was getting on her nerves, and made ignoring him that much harder.

Then, for the second time that day, the sound of her name brought her out of her daydreams. Only this time it was Galadriel who had spoken, and Filanna realized with growing horror that all were looking at her expectantly, and that she was about to cut a sorry figure in front of the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim, for she had no idea what had just been said to her.

"My lady?" she said, blushing fiercely. "I am sorry, I was distracted for a moment."

To her very great relief, Galadriel did not seem displeased. Instead, she gave Filanna a kind smile and said, "I thought as much. Surely, our city has many distractions to offer a first-time visitor. Wouldn't you agree, Filanna?"

Galadriel's kindness was so genuine that Filanna felt herself relaxing, for the first time that day. "I confess it is rather overwhelming, my lady. I have never been abroad before."

"We hope that you will enjoy your time here," Celeborn said. "If there is anything you need or want to know, do not hesitate to ask. Any Galadhel, including Galadriel and I, will be glad to help."

Filanna blushed shyly under the handsome lord's friendly gaze. "Thank you, that is very kind."

Turning to all three visitors, Celeborn said, "You will be brought to your guest telain, they have been made ready for you. You are invited to enjoy the morning meal at our table tomorrow, and after that," – he said this to Thranduil and Rínion, winking, "we get to work."

Words of thanks were spoken, and Thranduil, Rínion and Filanna made to leave.

"Orophin," was the last thing Filanna heard Galadriel say before she left the hall, "would you please stay for another moment?"

One of the Lord and Lady's sentinels showed Filanna the way to her talan, a short distance from the main hall. He was about to take his leave when she remembered to ask him directions to the stables. He gave her the information, she thanked him and he departed. Having spent several days on the road, she then took some time to freshen up and put on a clean outfit. Her hair was in desperate need of washing, but since that would take too much time, she settled for brushing it and making a new braid. Once she looked presentable again, she left the talan and made for the stables.

Caras Galadhon was a large city, with many, many paths and stairs that all looked alike, and in spite of the sentinel's directions Filanna lost her way three times before she finally arrived at the stables, a grand wooden complex near the city gates. Her stallion, Mithrenfin, was standing in a spacious box on fresh straw, with food and water at his disposal, and was all in all a very happy and contented horse. He patiently let her pet and stroke him, allowing her to pretend that she was comforting him, while in fact it was the other way around.

"Well, at least one of us is in high feather," she said with a smile. "The pampering is well-earned, mellon; but tomorrow you and I are going for a nice ride, if you are up to it."

He responded by snorting and tossing his head like the proud horse that he was.

Filanna spent a long time in the stables, wandering past all the boxes and talking to the horses, until suddenly she remembered that she, her father and her brother had been invited to attend the 'modest celebration' held in their honour tonight. Inwardly cursing herself for being so forgetful, she turned on her heel and sprinted to the exit, reaching it only a fraction of a second later than the large figure coming from the other direction. With amazing reflexes, the other elf stepped aside to avoid a collision, but she was so startled that she tripped over the threshold with a soft cry. She instinctively braced herself for the impact, but then she realized that she was no longer falling. Instead, she was being set on her feet again and steadied by two hands.

"Easy there," said a deep, male voice, with a hint of amusement in it. "Are you all right?"

Still feeling somewhat unsteady, she turned to look at the one who had caught her. A Galadhel of course, another tall one with silvery hair and grey eyes. Varda, but did all those Geledhil look the same? This one was wearing the grey uniform of the border wardens as well, but she did not think he had been among the elves welcoming her party at the border.

"Yes, I am fine," she said. "Thank you."

He was smiling at her and appeared to be studying her face at his leisure. To her horror and utter indignation, his gaze slid from her mouth to her chin and even further down from there, in a disturbingly male assessment that was far bolder than Orophin's had been. And his hands were still resting on her waist.

"Thank you," she repeated stiffly, "you can let go of me now."

He did so, but because he seemed disinclined to move away from her, she took a step back to increase the distance between them. She was beginning to feel painfully self-conscious, and his boldly roaming gaze irritated her; how dare he look at her like that! He had no right, no right at all.

"Have I seen you before? You do not look familiar," he said pleasantly. His eyes had finally found their way back to her face, but his self-assured smile continued to infuriate her. He was handsome, yes, but he clearly was all too aware of that himself, and she was not charmed by it whatsoever.

"Perhaps your memory is failing you," she said evasively, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. She was running late, and Ada and Rínion must be wondering where she was at.

"Perhaps," he said, "but I think not. I have an excellent memory. Are you a visitor here? You speak with an accent."

"Only one of us speaks with an accent, and it isn't me." She glanced over her shoulder, desperate to get away from there, and from him in particular. "Well, thank you again for your help, but I really have to go."

He lifted a dark eyebrow. "So soon?"

Filanna caught herself playing with her braid, something she often did when she was ill at ease. Sarcasm was slipping into her voice when she said, "Indeed, it's been lovely talking to you, but if your memory is truly as good as you say it is, you will remember that I was rather in a hurry before I almost fell on my face."

His lips curved up in a smile. "I do remember. May I be so bold as to inquire where you are going, and if by any chance you would appreciate some company?"

Filanna turned away abruptly, her patience exhausted. "No, you may not. Goodbye." The dismissal was coolly spoken and sounded rather snappish, but she did not bother to rectify. She usually wasn't this uncivil, especially not to strangers, but this elf with his observant, bold eyes made her nervous. She was not going to indulge him by lingering here and allowing him to look his fill.

She was already running up the stairs when he called after her, "You could at least tell me your name!"

She stopped and looked at him. "Why would I do that, when I don't even know yours?"

"Because I like to know the names of ellith who owe me a favour." He laughed and mimicked catching something in his arms, theatrically re-enacting what had just happened.

A _favour_? She suppressed the urge to cover her mouth with her hand and quickly continued her way up, not once looking back at that overbearing flirt of an elf below. Surely this was the only elf in existence with bad eyesight, to flirt with her- or just one with very poor taste.

xxx

The party held in the Mirkwood elves' honour was already in full swing when Haldir arrived. He had bathed and changed into clean clothes, and he felt refreshed and relaxed. To his surprise he spotted Orophin, who was standing by the buffet table and helping himself to the various delicacies displayed on it. It always made Haldir slightly uncomfortable to watch Orophin eat; he had the appetite of a bear and the table manners to match.

Haldir approached Orophin from behind and tapped him on the shoulder, saying in a stern voice, "Shirking your duty, soldier?"

Orophin spun around as if stung by a bee, swearing when he saw Haldir. "Was that really necessary?"

"Necessary, no. Tempting, yes." Haldir grinned. "But in all seriousness, aren't you supposed to be at the northern fences with Rúmil at this time?"

"I _was_ there," Orophin said, "but I was given the honourable task of escorting our royal guests to the city. Have some wine, it's from a good year."

Haldir filled himself a goblet and looked around, spotting both Thranduil and his eldest son. Then another familiar face caught his eye, and he frowned.

"What is that stable maid doing here?" he said, half to himself, half to Orophin.

"Stable maid?"

"Yes, the pretty one with the braid. She seems rather friendly with the Prince." Haldir looked at Filanna, who had not seen him yet as she was engaged in a conversation with Rínion. "I talked to her earlier this evening."

Orophin, who had followed his gaze in bewilderment, turned to his older brother with a quickly growing smirk on his face. "Ah, I see. So you 'talked', eh? That must have been quite the conversation indeed, if she did not even tell you her name."

"Funny." Haldir smiled mildly. "I assure you nothing untoward happened."

"Only because she didn't let you, I'll wager."

"Oh, you have met her? Perhaps even got some cold water splashed into your face yourself?"

"Yes to former question, no to the latter. Allow me to educate you, brother: she is not a stable maid, but Thranduil's youngest daughter, Filanna." It was with obvious enjoyment that Orophin watched his brother's expression change into one of disbelief.

"Oh, you _must_ be joking," Haldir said, looking from Orophin to Filanna and back. "That... that _ellon_? A princess of Mirkwood?"

"I understand your bewilderment, but it is the truth," Orophin said. "And that is not all. Not only does she dress like a male, she rides like one, too. She arrived on this enormous, fiery stallion which she rode as if it were a docile pony, and with one leg on each side."

"You sound impressed."

"Well, I _was_. And you would have been, too, if you had seen the horse. It is a ferocious-looking beast." Orophin looked at Haldir attentively, a mischievous smile playing at his lips. "So you think her pretty, do you, Haldir?"

"Hmm." Taking a slow pull at his wine, Haldir observed Filanna from the distance. "Interesting face."

Orophin nodded. "Unfortunately, her face is about all we see of her. Some concealment can be stimulating, I will be the first to acknowledge that, but this is ridiculous. She didn't even change into a dress for the occasion."

"Leggings do have one advantage over a dress, though." Haldir chuckled. "They allow us to admire the shape of a female's legs."

"But skirts can be hoisted up."

"Leggings can be pulled down. Technically, the effect is the same."

Orophin folded his arms in front of his chest. "Are you telling me you find a female in leggings more alluring than one in a gown?"

"No, I have never said that, nor would I ever. I was merely being objective, pointing out the benefits."

"The benefits of trousers on females."

"Exactly." Haldir turned his gaze away from Filanna to inspect the other females attending the party, who _were_ wearing dresses, and pretty ones at that.

"Well... just beware of her, brother." Orophin grinned. "I hear mental alarm bells when I look at this one. Before you know it, she will have turned _you_ into a docile pony, as well."

"Oh, I don't think so." Haldir laughed. "But if she wishes to ride me, one leg on each side, no one will hear me complain."

But Haldir was enough of a realist to know how little chance he had of succeeding with this girl. He had the feeling that she did not think of their first meeting as a positive experience, and the stubborn indifference with which she ignored him the entire evening enforced this impression. Besides, a king's youngest daughter, one who struck him as an innocent, and a prudish one at that... he wasn't sure if he had time to invest in such a challenge. There were easier and less dangerous ways to spend a pleasant night; and he did think he deserved one, after three weeks at the fences. Already several maidens were making eyes at him, so having his lust slaked tonight was not going to be very difficult. But then, it never was.

He did not speak with Filanna again that night. He stayed out of her way just like she seemed to stay out of his; in fact she spoke to few people other than her father and her brother. When at last he and Bereth, the elleth of his choosing, left for his talan, the princess hadn't been asked for a dance even once. She stood all by herself, apparently lost in thought, looking rather forlorn and strangely vulnerable. Haldir felt a strange flash of guilt then, but it faded the moment he rounded the corner, and by the time Bereth sighed in his arms as he skillfully removed her gown, the peculiar princess with the sad eyes was forgotten for the remainder of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Ada' = father, daddy  
> 'muin-iell' = dear daughter  
> 'pen tithen' = little one  
> 'telain' = plural form of 'talan', flet  
> Mithrenfin = mithren (grey) + fîn (hair, tress(es))  
> 'mellon' = friend  
> 'ellon' = male elf  
> 'elleth' = female elf (plural: ellith)


	2. Filanna's Own Chaperon

When Haldir woke the following morning, around dawn, he spent a few minutes lying with his eyes closed, listening to the sounds of the forest as it slowly came to life. To him, as to all Galadhrim, the Golden Wood with all its creatures was a living, breathing thing, with a voice and a character of its own, and it was at this time of day that its heartbeat was most clearly heard. In that moment, Haldir felt entirely content and at peace, and his blissful state was made complete by the presence of a woman's body next to him. Bereth was asleep still; he could hear the slow, even rhythm of her breathing, a sound that was quite familiar as well.

He smiled slightly. It was not the first time that she shared his bed; in fact, Bereth was one of the few ellith who did so regularly, each of whom he had chosen because they were discreet and offered enjoyable company. He was an unattached male with healthy physical needs, and when he wanted sex he had but to ask. Unless they were engaged elsewhere, they usually were willing to warm his bed for a night. Such were his sexual habits as well as those of most single males in Lórien. It was no secret and there was no shame in it, either. As long as there was a mutual understanding, the arrangement was beneficial to all, and no one ran the risk of getting hurt.

Of course he did enjoy variety from time to time, and when a new elleth caught his eye he had ways to make his interest known, but he only played that game of seduction when he felt he stood a good chance at conquering the elleth in question. Why should he waste time and energy struggling to attain the unattainable? It just wasn’t his style. When he met an elleth he liked, and she responded to him, he took her into his bed; if she was uninterested, no harm done. He would shrug it off and turn his gaze elsewhere. That was how it had always been, and how it would remain, as far as he was concerned. He was in control of his sex life, it was nice and uncomplicated and he liked it that way.

But apart from those occasional flirtations, he usually limited himself to that small circle of ellith whom he knew, trusted, and was comfortable with. To him, trust and discretion were the pillars on which every physical relationship should be built, and with Bereth there never had been any problems or misunderstandings. She was smart and skilled, and she had a good sense of humor, something he always appreciated in a female. And of course, as with the others, there was something about her that had caught and held his eye the very first time he saw her. In Bereth’s case, it had been her creamy skin and her beautiful red hair. It was quite a unique colour, it suited her and he liked it a lot.

With Filanna, it had been her eyes.

Haldir rolled onto his back and joined his hands beneath his head, his eyes now open as the elleth he had met the day before found her way back to the forefront of his thoughts. He did not know what to make of her; was she really as icy and aloof as she appeared to be, or was she just socially inept? He realized he had been rather forward with her, but that was before he knew who and what she was. He would have treaded more carefully, had he but known. He didn’t have much experience dealing with royalty, but a young princess like Filanna doubtlessly responded better to gallantry than to his usual style of flirting, which he knew was somewhat aggressive.

The more he thought about her, the more he found that he was not entirely discouraged, not yet. Last night’s party had not been the right time and place for further attempts, as he needed something quick and easy after three weeks of abstinence, but that need had been met – several times, in fact – and he decided that he was intrigued enough to give it another try. He wished to know how she would respond to a gentler approach, whether it would make any difference at all.

Staring up at the ceiling, Haldir recalled her face to mind. She really had lovely eyes, blue and expressive, framed by lashes as dark as her hair. And she had more pleasing features-- an extremely kissable mouth, for instance, and a very sweet, very willful little chin. Yes, he did enjoy looking at her, and it would be interesting to see if he could repair the damage he had done by coming on to her so fast. Even if getting her into his bed was a lost cause, just seeing her smile would be a nice reward for his time and effort, for he had not seen her do that once so far.

But he did not have much time. She would be off to Mirkwood again once Thranduil and her brother finished their business in Lórien, for the Mirkwood ruler had a busy schedule and never lingered idly in the places he visited. If Haldir wanted to find out what his chances were with the princess, he would have to act without delay. And he would act discreetly, for he did not care much for the idea of wooing her right under her father and brother’s noses. Thranduil was a benevolent and good-natured elf and his eldest son seemed cordial enough, but Haldir was quite certain that they wouldn’t be undividedly happy about the nature of his interest in Filanna. She might become unattainable the moment they found out about it, and Haldir did not pursue the unattainable.

Yes, caution would have to be exercised.

Beside him Bereth sighed in her sleep. She was lying on her stomach with one arm bent above her head and the other stretched alongside her body, and the alluring swell of her right breast was visible. The length of her smooth-skinned, flexible back was fully exposed to his eyes. It was a tempting enough sight to guide his thoughts back from the girl that wasn’t in his bed to the one that was. Haldir propped himself up on one elbow and stroked some hair away from her neck before leaning forward and kissing the nape. Sliding closer, he moved down from there, placing soft kisses along her spine. He took his time, wondering how long it would take for her to wake up. At first she sighed and shifted a bit as his ministrations slowly pulled her up through the layers of sleep, but at length she gave a low grunt that told him she was awake at last. It was not however a sound of pleasure, and she looked over her shoulder at him with a distinctly reproachful look in her eyes.

“I was _sleeping_ ,” she pointed out hoarsely.

“Yes, you were,” he said with a smile, “and very sweetly so. Have I disturbed pleasant dreams?”

“As a matter of fact, you have.”

“Forgive me.” He rolled her over with one hand. “I couldn't resist.”

“Elbereth, it is barely light yet,” she groaned. “You’d better have a very good reason for waking me, Haldir, or I will have to hurt you.”

“I do have a reason.” With a swift, calculated motion, he grasped both her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head. “Why don’t _you_ decide whether it is a good enough one or not?” He caught her legs with one of his own, and as he pressed his hardening sex against her thigh, he leaned down to slowly circle one of her nipples with his tongue, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from her.

“Well?” he asked semi-casually.

“Quite nice,” she said. “But if you want to escape my wrath, you will have to do much more than that.”

He grinned. She was good at this game, but he was better. It was a game he knew well, one he had mastered to perfection after years and years of practice. And it was one of his favourites, too.

“My dear,” he said, “I am only just getting started.”

xxx

Filanna, together with her father and brother, had breakfast with Celeborn and Galadriel that morning, and she marvelled at the variety of foods on the table. There were types of fruit that she had never seen in her entire life, and even the bread looked and tasted different. To her father and brother, however, it was nothing new; they displayed the same voracious appetite that made family breakfasts in Mirkwood such a spectacle to watch.

“Really, Thranduil,” Queen Aeriel had said to her husband on more than one occasion, shaking her head, “where do you leave it all, so early in the morning? One would think you have been felling all of Mirkwood in one night, from the way you are gorging.”

Thranduil laughed. “One cannot rule a kingdom on an empty stomach," was his cheerful reply. "And I will never fell a single tree as long as I shall live, especially not at night. When Ithil is high my energy is sapped in other ways, isn’t it, my love?”

When Filanna was little, naughty remarks like these had always made her mother agitated. “Hush, Thranduil,” she would say with a fierce blush, “Legolas and Filanna are listening.”

“Are they?” Thranduil would look at his two youngest with an expression of feigned shock. “They are, indeed! You little brats, cover up your ears when your mother and I discuss grown-up business.” He would then reach out, tickle both elflings mercilessly and ruffle their hair, making Aeriel sigh in annoyance because she would have to do their carefully made braids all over again.

Nowadays, with all her children grown into adults themselves, she was not so easily provoked by her husband's teasing, responding with a mere smile or a sharp retort of her own. It was a source of endless amusement for the princes and princesses, who were used to their father’s antics and took great delight in the knowledge that their parents were still as fond of each other as they had ever been.

At times Filanna wondered if her father’s ministers and advisors had even the faintest clue about that other side of their king. Thranduil had a definite streak of craziness to his character, but she had a feeling that he rarely showed it outside the family circle. As the King, he had a reputation to uphold, but in their private quarters he could truly be himself. Of course he did not always act the clown; when any of his children was struggling with something, he was always there to offer a listening ear, sage advice and a word of comfort. He had raised his children with love, affection and his renowned sense of humor, reprimanding them only when it was necessary, never shouting, never striking them, and using every available opportunity to tease them awfully. He adored his children as they adored him, and all of them had become articulate, strong-willed adults who approached the world with their heads held high.

All except one. For some reason, Filanna had never acquired her siblings’ confidence, nor their outgoing nature, and she considered that a major flaw in her personality. She sometimes asked her parents in jest on which street corner they had found her, but secretly she really did feel like the odd one out, the runt of the litter. Still, she loved her family above all else, all the more because it offered security. Strangers would judge her, while her family loved and accepted her the way she was, shy and uncharming and unfeminine, and as little as she cared for the conventions of the court, she far preferred the safety of it over the world outside, where she would be subject to scrutiny and criticism.

She had no intentions of trying to make friends among the Galadhrim at the risk of being disappointed and ridiculed. She was going out for a ride today, and she would go alone, with her horse as her only companion. No conversations to keep going, no courtesies to exchange, no pretences to uphold. No one to keep her from just being herself and having a good time.

But before she could leave, there was a favour she had to ask of Galadriel, and she spent most of the morning meal gathering her courage. When all had finished eating and rose from their seats to leave the table, Filanna realized that it was now or never. So while Thranduil and Rínion were listening to one of Celeborn’s anecdotes, she inched closer to the legendary Lady of Light - who was half a head taller than she was - and whispered, “My lady?”

Galadriel turned to her, smiling warmly. “Yes, child?”

“I wondered...” Filanna caught herself fondling her braid again, an old habit that still reared its ugly head when she was nervous, and stopped abruptly. “I am planning to take my horse out for a ride today and explore the surroundings.”

Galadriel was still smiling. “That is an excellent idea. It promises to be a very fine day, and as long as you stay within the borders of the forest, you are perfectly safe. Will you take some provisions with you, in case it will be a long day out?”

Filanna blinked, amazed that Galadriel forestalled her question so accurately. “I would like to, my lady, if it is possible.”

Galadriel laughed softly. “Of course it is possible, my dear. All you need to do is go to the telain where our food supplies are stored. The elf in charge there is Indorion. Tell him that you are my guest, and he will gladly help you.”

“Oh. Thank you, my lady. Where do I find these telain?”

“It would be hard to find for someone who doesn't know the way,” Galadriel replied. “I will see to it that someone takes you there.”

“Oh, but I assure you that is not necessary, my lady,” Filanna objected. “With proper directions, I am sure I can find it on my own...”

Galadriel did not hear her protest, or chose to ignore it. “Please fetch Orophin,” she said to one of the sentinels, who bowed and left. Turning to Filanna again, Galadriel said, “I really think it is better if someone goes with you this time, my dear, just to make sure that you won’t get lost. Orophin has already escorted you once, he will gladly do so again.”

Filanna nodded in resignation, giving in to the Lady’s will because she had no other choice. “Thank you, my lady. You are too kind.”

Not much later the sentinel returned, Orophin in his wake. He was not in his uniform today, but in casual wear. He bowed to all the dignitaries present in the room and smiled at Galadriel. “My lady has need of me?”

“Yes, Orophin,” she replied. “Princess Filanna wishes to visit the store rooms before she leaves for a ride. If you would be so kind as to escort her there, it would be very much appreciated.”

Orophin’s eyes met Filanna’s, and he smiled at her. “‘Twill be my pleasure, my lady.”

Filanna said goodbye to her father and brother, thanked the Lord and Lady for their hospitality, and followed Orophin outside.

“Do you wish to go straight to the store rooms, milady?” he asked her.

“Not immediately,” she replied. “I need to go back to my talan first and fetch a few things.”

“As you wish.”

While he waited outside her talan, she quickly gathered what she needed and armed herself with her bow and quiver, just as she would have done if this were Mirkwood. In spite of what Galadriel had said, she would feel safer when armed.

Not much later Orophin was leading her over bridges and stairs once again, into a part of the city that was new to her. She tried to memorize the route, so that she would be able to find the way on her own next time, but they took so many turns and passed so many similar-looking telain that she soon lost track and gave up. At that point she was quite grateful to have Orophin with her.

“Surely Caras Galadhon must look like a maze to you,” he offered kindly, as if he felt her confusion.

“It does,” she said. “I have lost all sense of direction by now, but thankfully you seem to know what you are doing.”

He laughed. “One gets used to it. And this is not the only route to the store rooms, but it is the shortest.”

After a short silence he asked, “May I be so bold as to ask where you plan to go today, milady?”

“I have no particular destination in mind,” she replied. “I merely wish to explore the surrounding area. I don’t intend to go very far, at least not today.”

He made a left turn. “It is not much further.”

As she followed at his heels, his height struck her again, as it had the day before. She was not short, for a female, yet she could barely look over his shoulder without stretching herself. The male breadth of his back and shoulders made her feel small and fragile as well. It was no wonder that he could wield that impressive bow; she suspected a lot of trained muscle under that tunic. Yet his step was graceful and light, as an elven warrior’s should be.

Lifting her eyes to the back of his head, she decided that she found that silvery hair that seemed to be so characteristic of the Galadhrim rather beautiful. It was prettier than her own plain brown locks, at any rate. Orophin’s was very long, it reached all the way down to his waist, and he had braided it in a different style than the warriors in Mirkwood were used to doing.

They spoke little, but Orophin did not seem to mind. Sometimes she could hear him whistling some tune to himself, as if he was actually in an excellent mood. Every time he spotted an acquaintance, he greeted them with a raised hand or a kindly spoken word. And this didn't happen just once or twice, but many times. She wondered if that meant he was popular.

When they arrived at the store rooms, he waited again for her to do what she had come for, positioning himself a small distance away to give her some privacy. The elf in charge was friendly and gave her what she asked for, more than she had expected and more than she would probably need, but he waved her protests away and added two generous slices of blueberry cake into the bargain, wrapping them in a cloth and pressing the little package into her hands.

“One for each of you,” he said conspiratorially, with a nod in Orophin’s direction. “It sure is a fine day for a romantic picnic with your sweetheart.” And sweet Valar, he _winked_ at her!

Her face was instantly on fire, and she prayed with all her might that Orophin hadn't heard that. “Oh, oh no, he’s not my... we’re not...” She lowered her eyes and concluded lamely, “It’s not like that."

“I was just teasing you, dear,” the elf said soothingly. “A good day to you, and be sure to come again.”

She thanked him quietly, clumsily stuffing the cakes into her bulging bag, and returned to Orophin. “I would like to go to the stables now,” she murmured, unable to look him in the eye.

“Certainly,” he said cheerfully, as if escorting her from one corner of Caras Galadhon to the other was his fondest wish come true.

“I am sorry for keeping you like this,” she said to his back as she followed him down the stairs. “I am sure you have better things to do with your time.”

“Not at all,” he said. “Chores are all I have planned for today, and I am glad for the opportunity to postpone them a little longer. My house needs some serious work; it is old and I’ve been neglecting it forever, but lately I’ve been having dreams of the roof crashing down on me while I sleep, and other such cheerful visions.” He laughed. “I suppose I can’t keep putting it off any longer, but I am as lazy as can be. It’s a curse.”

She smiled. “You are not returning to the border, then?”

“No, Lord Celeborn very graciously gave me leave to stay.”

“That must please you.”

“It does, milady; it does indeed.”

Once they arrived at the stables, Filanna was requested to wait outside and let an elf of the stable staff ready her horse and bring him outside. Oh, proprieties! Were they afraid that her delicate royal nose would take offense at the smells inside? Or that her delicate royal boots would get dirt on them? Orophin waited together with her, and she found that his quiet presence didn’t bother her this time.

Her horse was soon led outside. “Thank you for your help, Orophin,” she said as she strapped her bag to the saddle.

“It was no trouble.” Orophin was standing by the stallion’s head, stroking it. “He is truly magnificent,” he said, and the appreciation in his voice was evident.

She beamed at that, always proud to receive compliments on her horse’s behalf. “Isn’t he? Ada gave him to me when he was but a foal.”

Orophin nodded. “The horses of Thranduil’s stable are renowned for their strength and fierce temperament,” he said. “And for their loyalty to their riders. What is his name?”

“Mithrenfin.”

She was now ready to leave, but Orophin showed no inclination to part from her. “May I make a bold request, milady?”

“A request?” she repeated slowly. “What kind of request?”

“I would like to accompany you today, if you'll let me.”

What in the world? Filanna stared at Orophin’s face incredulously, trying to discern signs that would tell her he was joking, but she saw none. He seemed actually sincere.

“Accompany me?” she echoed. “Why?”

“Because it would please me to show you the interesting sites. I know the forest like the back of my hand.” He gave her a sweet, disarming smile that had surely melted many an elleth's heart before.

Filanna’s head reeled. Varda, what was happening here? Ever since she had arrived in Lórien she fell from one surprise into another. No Mirkwood elf would ever ask to accompany her anywhere, knowing that she far preferred to be alone.

“But... but what about your chores?” she offered weakly.

His smile turned into self-conscious grin. “I told you I was lazy.”

To her own surprise, she began to smile as well. “So you are using me as an excuse to procrastinate yet again.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way.” He laughed. “But I do find riding in charming company more entertaining than fixing the roof of my house. Is that so wrong?”

She bit her lip. “It would really please you to spend the day with me?”

“Yes, it would.” He tilted his head to the side. “And I must confess I have a weakness for blueberry cake.”

She instantly flushed red again. Oh, disaster; he _had_ heard that conversation, after all! How incredibly embarrassing!

“Don't let Indorion get to you,” he said kindly. “He is an old flirt of the first rank, and he enjoys making the ellith blush. Most of what he says doesn’t make any sense. The next time I go there to collect provisions for the patrol, I will speak to him sternly.” He smiled. “What say you, milady? May I be your charming chaperon for the day?”

“I do not need a _chaperon_ ,” she said with a scowl.

“Forgive me. Your guide, then.”

Filanna didn't know what to think. This was not what she had been planning! But she had to admit that, for some unfathomable reason, she rather liked Orophin. She usually felt intimidated and threatened when strange males were around, but with Orophin it was not so. Not so much, at any rate. She could bear having him with her. He definitely was more pleasant company than that other Galadhel she had met the day before, and since Galadriel herself had selected him to be her escort, he had to be dependable.

What harm could it do? It was only for one day, anyway. If she declined, his feelings might be hurt; and since he had been so kind to her, she did not wish for that to happen.

“Very well, then,” she said, conceding. “But on the condition that you stop calling me ‘milady’. If I must hear that all day long, I will be thoroughly annoyed by the end of it.”

He bowed slightly. “I promise.”

“And you must quit the bowing too.”

He grinned. “Naturally. I will be back in a moment.”

He turned and disappeared into the stables at a trot, leaving Filanna bewildered and confused.

And, although she would rather die than admit it, ever so slightly, secretly pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ithil = the moon (S)


	3. Family Matters

“I suggest we start our tour at Cerin Amroth,” Orophin said to Filanna as they rode out from the city side by side. “It isn’t very far, not twenty miles from here, and it is a must-see for every new visitor of Lórien.” He smiled. “Are you in agreement?”

She nodded. “I have heard about the mound of Amroth, and about the beauty of the place. I would very much like to see it.”

“Very well, Cerin Amroth it is. I know of a path that will lead us there almost directly.”

Filanna was nervous, for she found herself in a situation that was alien to her. Her plans for the day had been disarranged when this Galadhel, this elf she barely knew, had volunteered to accompany her, and although she had accepted the offer herself, she was painfully aware of the fact that she now had a companion to entertain. How in the name of Eru was she going to spend an entire day with Orophin without boring him to death? Small talk was not exactly her strongest point. Surely he would regret his offer before this day was even half over, and that thought depressed her already. Oh, why did she have to be such a twit? Why couldn’t she just be charming and witty, like everyone else?

She had tried so hard to convince herself that she did not care what the Galadhrim thought of her, but in truth, she did care. A lot. Although it was not something she gladly admitted even to herself, her fondest, most secret dream was all about being liked and loved, admired for her qualities and talents. She wanted Orophin to like her, she wanted to make a good impression on him, and on Celeborn and Galadriel as well. Those two were both so formidable, ancient and wise; in their eyes she was probably a child still, an elfling with no special accomplishments or great deeds behind her name, except a title she had obtained merely by being born. But they were very warm and kind to her, and for that she was grateful.

As for the other warden she had met the day before-- she was not sure what he was thinking of her, but she did know that she could do without meeting him again. The memory of his bold gaze sweeping over her still made her shiver. But to her great relief, he had ignored her at the party the night before. She had secretly glanced his way a couple of times and taken note of the fact that he danced little but well, and that he and Orophin seemed rather friendly with one another. This had surprised her, but since the two shared the same profession, they probably knew each other quite well.

“What do you know of Cerin Amroth?” Orophin asked her.

“Well...” She searched her memory for a moment or two. “I know that it was the chief dwelling of the Galadhrim before Caras Galadhon was built, and that the first telain were constructed there by King Amroth, son of Amdir.”

“Inspired by his love for Nimrodel, a Silvan elf-maiden.” Orophin nodded. “The first millennium of the Third Age was a time of peace and prosperity for us. But the shadow that descended on Mirkwood after that affected Lórien as well, and when in 1981 a Balrog drove the Dwarves out of Moria, the days of Cerin Amroth were over. We were not prepared for the orc-hosts that were drawn to Moria and fell upon our woods. Most of Cerin Amroth was destroyed.”

“Do you remember that time?”

“I do, but I was a young elf at the time, not qualified to fight. My brothers did fight at the front, so they have the stories to tell, but those aren’t happy tales. My mother and I fled, along with many others, and saw little of the slaughtering.”

“And your father?”

“He fought as well.” Orophin paused briefly. “He was slain.”

“Oh.” She glanced at him. “Oh, Orophin, I’m sorry.”

“Do not be.” He gave her a smile. “It was a long time ago, and he died with honour.”

“Do you really find comfort in that?” she asked doubtfully. She knew she would be mad with grief if her father or any of her brothers fell in battle, and she did not think that the manner in which it happened would make much difference.

“Yes, really. But of course our grief was great. Our mother sailed west not long after Caras Galadhon was built, our new capital.”

“Oh,” she said again, becoming very aware of the fact that while her own family was still very much intact, others were not so lucky. “You are making me sad, Orophin.”

“You don’t have to be sad. It was her choice, and the three of us managed quite well on our own. I was not of age yet, but I had Haldir to keep an eye on me.” He chuckled. “He was indefatigable in his mission to keep me from doing stupid things.”

“Who is Haldir?”

“My other brother.” He turned slightly to look at her. “You may not realize it, but you have already met him. I believe the two of you had an encounter at the city stables yesterday?”

She stiffened in the saddle at this revelation. “Is he your _brother_?”

“Yes indeed. Or so our parents have always told us.” He smiled. “Is it not obvious that we are related? He is almost as good-looking as I am.”

She looked at him oddly, but seeing his cheeky, good-humored grin she could not suppress a smile of her own. “I did notice the resemblance, but I simply drew the conclusion that all Geledhil must look similar,” she confessed. “I did not suspect a blood bond between you and him.”

“You thought we all looked alike?”

His affronted expression made her shrink ever so slightly, and she quickly explained, “I meant no insult. In fact, I think you are all very, er, handsome. In your, er, own unique ways, of course.” She blushed and shut her mouth lest she embarrass herself further. Good grief, what nonsense she was spewing!

He was laughing again. “Ah, already you have found my weak spot,” he said teasingly. “One compliment from a charming elleth and Orophin is defenseless.”

That made her blush even harder. “So... you have two brothers?” she asked, hoping to direct the conversation back to safer waters.

“Aye, it’s just the three of us. We have no sisters.”

“And you are the youngest?”

“Yes. Haldir is the oldest and Rúmil sits comfortably in the middle.”

“Are you much alike? In character, I mean?”

“In certain ways, we are alike. In others, we are not.” Orophin paused, apparently pondering the question. “Let me illustrate with an example. Imagine that the three of us find a pie somewhere.”

“A pie?” she echoed, lifting an eyebrow.

“I admit it’s a rather silly metaphor, but it will serve the purpose. Now, Rúmil will nestle down next to the pie and write a song or poem describing its beauty, its delicate structure and the rich colours of the fruit on top. Haldir, however, will want to find the rightful owners of the pie and return it to them as quickly as possible.”

“And... you?”

“I am the one snatching it away from under their noses and cramming it into my mouth before he can do so.” He chuckled. “Does that tell you enough?”

A snort of laughter escaped her. “Well, it tells me that you have a sweet tooth, Orophin.”

“That is true enough,” Orophin said with a grin. “But what I meant to demonstrate is that Rúmil is a thinker and a poet, the most romantic of us three. Haldir is the responsible one, the voice of reason. And I am the most instinctive.”

“The voice of reason?” she repeated. “Haldir?” That description did not quite fit her memory of the brash elf she had met the day before.

“Yes, rational and conscientious, that’s Haldir.” Orophin looked at her, smirking ever so slightly. “He flirted with you, didn’t he? You have my sympathies. But, if it makes you feel any better, he doesn’t do that with just any female.”

“No?” she said dryly. “Then what did I do to be so lucky?”

He chuckled again. “You don’t like him very much, do you?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said evasively. “You are his brother, and I only spoke with him briefly, so I am not really in a position to pass judgment. But he had a rather arrogant attitude that rubbed me the wrong way.”

“Ah, that sounds like my brother, indeed. No, humility is not his forte; but I should tell you that I am probably just as arrogant.” He grinned. “I just hide it better than our proud Marchwarden.”

“Marchwarden?” She vaguely remembered hearing the word before but couldn’t quite place it. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Orophin said, sighing, “that when we are out in the field, I along with everyone else have to call my own brother ‘captain’.”

“Really?” A Marchwarden had to be some type of officer, then; the one who commanded the other wardens in battle.

“Well, I have no doubt that he would enjoy it,” Orophin said with a wink, “but I say it only to mock him.”

“Oh.” She laughed. “How wicked of you!”

“Wicked? No, not at all. Personally, I think it is for his own good,” Orohin said cheerfully. “But in all seriousness... don’t worry about him. I know my brother. As soon as he realizes that the interest isn’t mutual, he will stop bothering you.” He grinned. “Remember, Haldir can step away from a pie that isn’t his, and keep his hands behind his back.”

Filanna was silent. Well, of course he could; doubtlessly the females were lining up for an opportunity to satisfy Haldir’s appetite. His good looks went a long way to accomplish that, as did his prestigious rank and his obvious talent for smooth talking. Why would he waste time trying to win a grain of her attention if he could fill his bed with others just by snapping his fingers?

Orophin and Haldir, brothers. Not for a second had she considered that possibility. In hindsight, yes, the two clearly resembled each other, outwardly at least, but she found Orophin much more likable and well-mannered. She was glad that he was riding beside her, and not Haldir.

“And you?” Orophin asked. “How many siblings do you have?”

“I am the youngest of seven,” she replied. “I have three brothers and three sisters. My sisters have visited Lórien in the past; perhaps you remember them.”

“I do, now that you mention it. But you do not remind me of them, I must say.”

“No, I am the odd chick in the nest,” she admitted with a half smile. “They are graceful and feminine and I am neither. They often say that I should have been born a male; I have always been closer to my brothers, and enjoyed things like climbing trees, building huts and so forth. I have a brother, Legolas, who is not much older than I am, and we often played together as children."

"And which one of your brothers is the Orophin of the family?” Orophin asked, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Who would eat the pie?”

She smiled as she thought about it. “They all would, I'm afraid, but you remind me the most of Darwain. He is always in a good mood, just like you.”

“That is a dangerous assumption. You have known me for only one day now; tomorrow I could be the most insufferable grumbler you have ever seen.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she said with a chuckle. “Besides, you make me laugh; and Darwain is particularly good at that, too.” Her voice faltered a bit at the end. The praise was sincere, but she did not wish to embarrass him.

He bowed his head slightly, acknowledging the compliment and apparently pleased with it. For a while neither spoke, and Filanna took a moment to study the surroundings more attentively. It was a truly beautiful morning, clear and sunny, and it promised to be a lovely early spring day. Here, outside the city, mellyrn shared the soil with more common trees like oak, chestnut and birch. They were different from the trees she knew in Mirkwood, though; healthier and stronger. No giant spiders lurked in their canopies, no shadow had crept beneath their bark. They breathed freely. She heard birds that had left Mirkwood long ago – cuckoo, woodpecker, magpie – and when she spotted a squirrel she was surprised to see that its fur was red, instead of black.

These woods felt strangely... alive, compared to Mirkwood. It was a revelation for her, and not a very pleasant one. She knew Mirkwood had once been like this, in the time that it had still been called Greenwood, but that was in a distant past. Her parents had lived long enough to remember that time, as had Rínion and Darwain, but she had never known her homeland other than as a dark, dangerous, spider-infested place. No person in their right mind ventured into Mirkwood if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.

“So, I have to ask: what it is it like being a princess?” Orophin said, interrupting her rather gloomy thoughts.

“Why? Would you like to be one?” The counterquestion slipped out before she could keep herself in check, and she blushed yet again. This was how she usually spoke to her brothers, not to some stranger she had met only the day before.

He grinned. “Actually, I would consider trading with you if it were possible. You would make quite an impression as a warden of the border, I am sure, and I would get the lazy life of luxury. Or is that a misconception?”

She shrugged. “I suppose not. It is a very uneventful life. I would even describe it as boring most of the time. There is nothing romantic or enviable about it, as far as I am concerned.”

“Is there a strict protocol to follow?” he asked. “I have heard that in some monarchies, royals aren’t allowed to choose their own spouses. Is it true?”

“It is partially true,” she replied. “There was a law once that allowed the sitting King and Queen to arrange a marriage for the heir to the throne, but it fell into disuse and my father got rid of it completely. He says the whole concept is ridiculous, and hopelessly out of fashion.” She smiled. “Of course, one could argue that he had personal reasons for abolishing the law.”

“How so?”

“Well, my parents had to keep their love secret for quite a while. My father was the King’s only son and my mother wasn’t even nobility, which was still an issue at that time. My grandfather was a conservative monarch, and they knew he would make objections if he found out about it, so they kept their attachment private for several years.”

“And how was the issue resolved?”

“Ada eventually confessed the truth and announced that he would marry my mother, whether Oropher gave his blessing or not. And he did. It took a while, but in the end Grandfather came around, especially after Rínion was born.”

“This all happened before the war, then?” Orophin asked. “Your grandfather fell at Dagorlad, did he not?”

“Yes,” she said, “as did many of our people. Rínion is the only grandchild King Oropher ever saw in life. But he doesn’t remember much; he was still a child when our grandfather went to war in Mordor, never to return.”

The conversation between Orophin and Filanna continued to evolve from there, flowing naturally from one topic to the next, and Filanna wasn’t even aware of the passing of time until they reached Cerin Amroth, shortly after noon. It was a site so beautiful that Filanna was rendered speechless for a few moments: a wide open space with a great mound at its edge, all covered by a soft carpet of spring-green grass dappled with elanor and niphredil. Upon the mound were two rings of trees; white trees, somewhat similar to birches, formed the outer ring, while in the center mellyrn stood proud and tall, their canopies bearing the yellow blossoms of spring.

“Oh, Orophin, it is lovely!” she enthused, dismounting. “Are those the mellyrn that bore the first telain?”

“Yes,” replied Orophin, who slid out of the saddle as well. “In fact, there is still one talan up there, high in the branches of the tallest mallorn in the center. It offers a spectacular view in all the wind’s directions. Would you like to see it?”

“Oh, yes!”

“Then let us climb. The horses can walk free here in the meantime.”

He started walking up the hill, but stopped and turned around when he realized that she wasn’t following. “Is something wrong?”

“I do not want him to eat the flowers,” she said sheepishly, still holding Mithrenfin by the rein.

He smiled. “Don’t worry, Filanna. Horses do not eat the elanor and niphredil of Cerin Amroth.”

“They don’t?”

“No. Trust me, these lovely flowers are quite safe.” He smiled again and continued to ascend. “Are you coming?”

After a long climb, Orophin and Filanna reached the flet from that offered a panoramic view of the surrounding lands. To the west lay the snow-topped peaks of the Misty Mountains, to the south a great green forest which she knew to be Fangorn-- an ancient forest that was rumored to be inhabited by mythical creatures.

“Have you ever been to Fangorn?” she asked him.

“No,” Orophin replied. “But if you want to hear about it, ask Haldir. He has travelled more and farther than Rúmil and I ever have, and he has seen Fangorn at least once.” He pointed towards the east. “And there lies of course Southern Mirkwood.”

“Where Dol Guldur, the dark fortress stands.” She nodded. “It has been an evil place from the day Sauron founded it. Even now that he has left it, evil is drawn to it. We do not venture into that part of the forest anymore.” She sighed and turned her gaze away from the distant vastness that was Mirkwood. It was true that she had lived a relatively sheltered life, but she was no ignorant; she knew very well what was happening in the world outside the palace walls, and it both worried and angered her. The Wood-elves had already been forced to retreat to the northeastern part of the forest; if the evil forces kept growing, would they one day have to leave Mirkwood altogether? It was not unthinkable... And what would happen then?

“Well, do you reckon this is a good site for a little picnic?” Orophin said. “I can smell the cake all the way up here.”

She giggled. “Orophin, does conversation with you always revolve around food?”

“I admit it’s another weakness of mine,” he said with a grin. “Eating is a hobby.”

“I’m surprised you have managed to stay so trim, then.”

“A warden of the border does not get the opportunity to become overweight,” he said with a sigh, and he gestured at the rope ladder hanging down from the flet. “Shall we?”

xxx

After a picnic at Cerin Amroth, Orophin took Filanna to see a few other places of beauty in the eastern part of the Naith. The afternoon went by quickly and pleasantly, and Filanna was in the best of moods when at length they returned to Caras Galadhon in the waning light of day. If she had known how easy he was to talk to, she wouldn’t have been so nervous in the first place. And although she didn’t dare ask him, she fervently hoped that he had enjoyed himself also.

“Thank you very much, Orophin,” she told him shyly before they parted ways. “You have been a wonderful guide.”

“It was my pleasure,” was his reply.

At dinner that evening she told her father and Rínion about her day, growing more and more enthusiastic in the telling, and very aware that Celeborn and Galadriel were listening with great interest. Galadriel especially seemed pleased for some reason.

“So you had a Galadhric escort, eh?” Rínion said with a wink. “Good for you, little sister. I hope he behaved like a gentleman, though.”

Filanna glowered at him. Curse older brothers and their suggestive jokes! “Of course he did. He is respectable and kind.”

“I concur,” Galadriel said reassuringly. “Filanna was in good company today. You have my word for it.”

Filanna left the table early, for she wanted to take advantage of the last hour of daylight and shoot a few arrows before night fell. She enjoyed the sport and practised every day; she saw no reason to change that routine now that she was away from home.

When she arrived at the range with her archery equipment, though, she found it was occupied by at least a dozen elves, all of them Geledhil and all of them male. And one of them was Haldir. She groaned inwardly when she recognized him; just her kind of luck! What was worse, he saw her before she could decide what to do; and to her astonishment, he lowered his bow and _came in her direction_. He simply left his spot in spite of the fact that several archers were standing at the sidelines, waiting for one of the targets to become available; and none of them seemed even inclined to step in and take his place. But then, surely Lothlórien’s Marchwarden could step out for a cup of tea and still no one would have the audacity to use his target without his permission.

She stood as if rooted to the spot, waiting in apprehension for him to reach her. What did he want from her?

“Good evening,” he said once he stood in front of her, and he bowed slightly.

“The same to you,” she said, keeping her expression blank.

He wasted no time on empty pleasantries. “I wish to apologize for yesterday. I do realize now that it was not correct of me to ask for your name without offering you mine. Therefore, I would ask for your forgiveness as well as for an opportunity to introduce myself properly, as I should have done yesterday.”

She was stupefied. Was that all he was going to apologize for? It was the very least thing that had bothered her!

“An apology is not necessary,” she said coolly. “And it so happens that I already know your name, Marchwarden.”

Valar, what was it about this elf that irked her so? Even now, although he was polite and kept his eyes on hers instead of letting them wander all over her body, she felt an antipathy towards him she could not quite explain. Orophin was obviously fond of his eldest brother, so she felt she should give him a chance at least, but his presence did nothing to make her feel comfortable. There was a powerful masculine quality to his personality, intruding her senses like a heady perfume. It was intimidating, overpowering almost.

“I see. And I know yours,” he said, seemingly unfazed by her curtness. “I suppose that negates the need for introductions, then.” He glanced at the arrows behind her back. “You came to practise?”

“I did, but since I seem to have chosen a bad time, I think I will leave.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he said. “You can share my target.”

Filanna blinked, distrusting her own ears. “Excuse me?”

“You can share my target,” he repeated. “Come, we will take turns.”

Filanna was speechless. She could not believe he was actually talking to her in this authoritative manner, as if she were one of his wardens. Was he expecting her to fall at his feet in gratitude? She did not need his charity!

“I cannot possibly,” she blurted out. “Others have been waiting longer… it isn’t my turn yet.”

“Don’t worry about the others,” he said. “I’m offering you a chance to practise. Do you accept or not?”

She opened and closed her mouth like a fish on dry land, her mind working feverishly to form an intelligent response. She would have to refuse, that much was certain.

“I am surprised.” He smiled. “You did not strike me as the type to back down from a challenge. Have you no confidence in your skills?”

At that, her mouth fell open again. The nerve of that elf!

“How dare you!” She straightened herself to her full height and glared at him, unconsciously balling her hands. “I am an elf of Mirkwood, no less skilled or trained than any archer here, and I am not afraid to prove it.” She looked him straight in the eye, trying hard not to show how much she surprised herself with her own proud declaration.

“Indeed?” He lifted an eyebrow, looking mildly amused. “Now my curiosity is roused, daughter of Thranduil. I insist that you share my target with me and show us how a princess of Mirkwood shoots.”

“I accept,” she said between gritted teeth, squaring her shoulders. “Your bow against mine, Marchwarden.”

He stepped aside with a theatrical sweep of his arm. “Ladies first.”

But even as she stepped onto the shooting range Filanna felt her courage seeping away from her. Her pride was a weak spot, and Haldir had cleverly used it against her. But there was no turning back; several Geledhil had heard their conversation and were waiting to see what would happen next. She felt their eyes tracking her. She would have to prove that she was indeed a skilled archer, or fail and undergo public humiliation. The prospect was rather daunting, especially since she had never performed in front of such a crowd before.

“I can move the target closer, if you wish,” he said once they reached the shooting line.

“The distance is just fine,” she replied, meeting his eyes with a challenging look of her own.

“Very well. Give me a moment to collect my arrows before we begin.” He went to the target to retrieve the arrows he had fired earlier and returned with a full quiver, indicating that she could take the first shot.

Well aware of the fact that he was watching her every move, Filanna pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked it carefully, taking a moment to concentrate. She then raised the bow and pulled back the string, found her aim and released. The arrow sped away, crossing the distance in a steady course and imbedding itself powerfully in the innermost circle of the target. There were a few approving murmurs from the spectators, and she felt strangely satisfied as she stepped aside to give Haldir space.

Haldir said nothing as he took position and readied his bow for the shot. She used the opportunity to study him with a critical eye, but failed to detect even the tiniest flaw in his technique. His movements were fluent and efficient, and his long elegant fingers gripped the feathered end of the arrow confidently, drawing it to his anchor point and making the solid wood of his bow bend as if it were a mere reed in the breeze. He had an impeccable stance. Release and follow-through were also perfect. She was not surprised to see his arrow drill itself into the red central area of the target, close to her own.

He lowered his bow and glanced at her. “Your turn again.”

She lowered her eyes, realizing that she had been staring at him openly. Now that she knew what to look for, the resemblance to Orophin was indeed obvious. Haldir was as tall and broad-chested as his youngest brother if not more so, they had the same chins and similar noses. _He is almost as good-looking as I am_ , Orophin had quipped, but Filanna had to grudgingly admit that it was in fact the other way around. Haldir was by far the most attractive of all three brothers, and for some reason, this annoyed her greatly.

For a while they took turns shooting until their quivers were empty, each arrow finding its way to either the red circle in the middle of the target or the ring directly around it. The white feathers marked Haldir’s hits, the green ones were Filanna’s. White dominated slightly in and near the center, but it was a marginal victory for the Marchwarden.

“Good start,” Haldir said mildly. He leaned casually on his bow, one hand planted on his hip. “Would you like to try a longer range?”

She lifted her chin, acknowledging the challenge. “Yes, I would. A hundred feet extra?”

“As you wish. Would you be so kind as to hold this while I go and take care of it?” Without waiting for a response, he pressed his bow into her hands and made for the target to move it further away and pull out the arrows.

Filanna was on cloud nine, holding Haldir’s bow with a feeling that bordered on reverence. Oh dear, it was even more gorgeous up close! She let her fingers trace the beautiful carvings, a credit to the craftsmanship of the Galadhrim. From tip to tip it was practically as tall as she was and it felt heavy when she lifted it with both hands. Oh, if only she had the strength to wield such a powerful weapon!

She was still admiring the bow when Haldir returned with her arrows and she had to hand it back to him, doing so with reluctance. Another round began. This time Haldir was clearly at an advantage, for his arrows travelled the extended distance to the target with more speed and in a steadier course than Filanna’s, but as before she did not miss the target once. By the time they had emptied their quivers for the second time, there was again quite a lot of green to be found near the center.

“Very impressive,” Haldir said calmly. “You shoot like a true warrior of Mirkwood. Many of my wardens would not perform so consistently.”

He seemed sincere, and Filanna smiled in delight. Her personal opinion of this elf regardless, such a compliment from the Marchwarden was meaningful and flattering. She had not expected to beat him, but she was pleased with her performance. She had certainly not lost face tonight.

“You can continue practising here, if you wish,” he said. “I am calling it a day.”

“So am I. It is getting too dark anyway.”

This time she accompanied him to the target, and they both gathered their arrows. No words were spoken until they had both finished and were ready to go.

“Shall I walk you home?” he asked.

A little warning bell jingled in Filanna’s head at that. The shooting competition had kept her well occupied and entertained, but his offer caused her suspicions to instantly resurface. She knew next to nothing about him, and the fact that he was a more than decent archer did not mean that she could trust him, even if he was Orophin’s brother.

“There is no need,” she replied. “I know the way to my talan.”

“All the better,” he said with a smile, “for I do not.”

“Are you mocking me?” She folded her arms in front of her chest, looking at him with a frown. “I do not need an escort.”

“I am not offering an escort. I am offering company. Can I persuade you to take an evening walk with me?” He smiled subtly. “An innocent little stroll, in public. Very safe.”

“No, thank you. I am quite tired and wish to retire. But,” she sighed, “if you must, I suppose you can accompany me to my talan.”

“You are too kind,” he said with a slight, mocking bow.

They walked most of the way in silence. Filanna felt awkward the whole time, but she knew that the lack of communication could not be blamed on Haldir, who attempted several times to engage her in conversation. It was her concise responses that nipped each of these attempts at dialogue in the bud.

She was fully aware that she was not being very kind. In fact, compared to the Filanna she had been with Orophin today she found herself chilly and not likable at all. He did not deserve this treatment. But she simply knew of no other way to make it clear that she was not interested in whatever he was offering. She couldn’t possibly say the words in his face; she would die with embarrassment! Keeping him at an arm’s length and hoping that he would get the hint seemed like the best way to go.

“We’re here,” she said once they arrived at her guest talan. “Thank you for tonight. I, er... I have enjoyed myself.” There, that was kindness enough; and it wasn’t even a lie. She had had a good time shooting, and his company had been more bearable than she would have expected.

“Likewise,” he said, looking down at her with those dark, enigmatic eyes. Again, his closeness intimidated her and made her feel uncomfortable. She could not quite comprehend what this elf wanted with her. And why. _He doesn’t flirt with just any female,_ Orophin had said. What did that mean? Did this count as flirting, his standing so close and looking at her as if he could kiss her any moment? And if it did, why was he doing it with _her_? Oh, she wished he would just turn around and leave!

Last night, she had seen him leave the party scene together with a pretty elleth in a stunning dress. He had led her with an arm around her waist and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had transpired after that. The thought alone, with him standing so close to her right now, made her blush and fidget. He, however, looked completely at ease and confident.

She was not interested in this elf! But even if she had been, she wouldn’t think of joining his doubtlessly long list of conquests. Not a chance!

“Do not look so scared,” he finally said, still with that little smile. “I am not asking you to invite me inside.”

“Then... what _are_ you doing?” she asked, praying that her voice would not betray how nervous he made her.

“Testing the water,” he replied. His piercing eyes did not leave hers even for a second and seemed to study her. “But I find it rather chilly. I wonder if there is any chance it will warm up to me.”

“I...” She began to stammer. Her heart thudded almost deafeningly, and she was sure that her face was looking bright red by now. “I– I think you are wasting your time. Please go. I am sure you will have more success elsewhere.”

Instinctively, she clapped a hand over her mouth, but she had already blurted it out. Oh Varda, she had _not_ meant to say that! One of his dark, arched eyebrows rose slightly.

“Oh, are you?” he asked in a peculiar tone.

She blushed even harder, inwardly cursing her own big mouth. “Yes, I am. Will you please just go now?” She could not look at him, staring at the toes of her boots instead. “Please, Haldir.”

For a few long, dreadful seconds, nothing happened. Then, at last, he took a step back. “If you wish me to take my leave, then take my leave I shall,” he said. “Sleep well.”

She peeked up at him, wondering if she had offended him, but there was no anger in his eyes. Nor was there warmth. He wore a calm, perfectly blank expression.

“Good night, Filanna,” he said courteously, and he turned and walked away before she could say anything in return. It was the first time he said her name, and it suddenly occurred to her that he had never addressed her with her title, either-- not even once. He had just skipped that phase entirely.

She stared after him for a few moments, then turned abruptly and walked to the door, trying to do so in a dignified fashion but aware of every step she took. She did not look back at him, and once the door was shut behind her she leaned against it, feeling tired and a bit shaky all of a sudden. She couldn’t quite grasp what had happened just now. Had she interpreted Haldir’s words correctly? Would he really have bedded her if she had given him the chance? The idea was greatly unsettling. Oh, how was she going to react the next time they met? How could she even look him in the eye after this? Oh dear! She felt so green and inexperienced right now. The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that she had handled the matter in the worst possible way.

It was an unsatisfying and disconcerting ending to an otherwise perfect day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware that I have strayed from canon with regard to the concept of elvish marriage. Arranged marriages, a topic briefly touched upon in this chapter, would probably not have occurred at any given time in the elven culture as described by Tolkien.
> 
> ‘Naneth’ = mother (S)  
> the Naith = the part of Lórien between Celebrant and Anduin  
> anchor point = an archery term. It’s the place you draw back to for the release of the arrow, usually the cheek or a corner of the mouth.


	4. Damsels In Distress

After he had left Filanna standing outside her talan, Haldir found he did not wish to try his luck elsewhere and went home instead. Deciding that he might as well do something useful with the time now at his disposal, he seated himself at the table and rolled up his sleeves before beginning the routine process of cleaning his weapons. He polished the blade of his sword until it cast his reflection back at him and then turned his attention to his bow. He was inspecting the integrity of the string when Orophin’s characteristic series of knocks came.

“Enter,” he called.

The door opened and in walked his youngest sibling, all smiles as usual. “Good evening, gwanur.”

“The same to you. To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your visit?”

“Nothing but genuine affection for my beloved brother and my wish to spend time with him,” Orophin replied jovially. “Have I come at a bad time?”

“Not at all, if you don’t mind me finishing this.” Haldir indicated another chair. “Have a seat. Or help yourself to a drink first, if you want.”

“Gladly.” Orophin reached for Haldir’s goblet, which stood empty on the table, and took it into the kitchen to refill it along with his own.

“A little bird told me that the Mirkwood princess stole the show on the archery range this evening,” he called from the kitchen as he stood pouring the wine.

Haldir sighed soundlessly, pulling back the bowstring to test the feel. “News sure travels fast in Caras Galadhon.”

Orophin came back into the room, holding a goblet in each hand. “Yes, tongues are wagging in the city, spreading an interesting rumour. When was the last time you engaged in a contest of skills with a female, Haldir?” He grinned.

“It was not meant to be a contest. I merely wanted to see how well she performed.”

“And?”

“She surprised me,” Haldir replied truthfully.

Orophin took the chair opposite Haldir. “The same little bird also told me that the two of you left the archery field together,” he said, grinning even more broadly. “Do tell, brother. Did you get to kiss her goodnight?”

Haldir shot him a look. “You don’t actually believe I will answer that, do you?”

“No luck, eh?” Orophin took a sip of his wine. “I am sorry, Haldir. I hate to say it but you have not exactly stolen her heart.”

“I am aware of that.” Haldir picked up the small tool with which he could tighten or loosen the bowstring according to his preferences. “But you have some explaining to do as well, Orophin. I too have my sources, and they tell me that Filanna was out riding for most of the day, accompanied by none other than you. How did that come to pass?”

“That is easily explained. Galadriel has asked me to look after Filanna a bit, spend some time with her and help her feel welcome. I must say that Galadriel has given me less pleasant assignments in the past; the princess is rather charming company. She wasn’t too eager for my company at first, but I was insistent.” He smiled. “I think she even enjoyed herself in the end, as did I. She is actually rather witty when you get to know her better.” He took another draught and placed his goblet on the table. “But don’t worry, I will not compete with you for her affections."

Haldir shrugged. “What affections? As you said, she does not think favorably of me, and that is putting it euphemistically. This evening on the archery range, she was more attracted to my bow than to me. I felt strongly inclined to leave and give the two of them some privacy. I would not have been missed by either of them, I am sure.”

“The filthy traitor!” Orophin laughed, glancing at the bow between Haldir’s knees. “That must have been quite a blow to your pride.”

Haldir smirked, but then his expression became serious. “Do be careful, Orophin. Filanna is young still and inexperienced. She might mistake your kindness for something else.”

A mischievous sparkle appeared in Orophin’s eye. “Are you concerned about her, Haldir? How sweet.”

“Orophin.” Haldir spoke in a warning tone now. “I am not jesting.”

“I know.” Orophin paused. “I see your point, Haldir, but don’t worry about Filanna. She seems like a sensible elleth, and I promise you my conduct will be perfectly appropriate at all times.”

Haldir was not entirely convinced. Galadriel’s wisdom was beyond question, but he could not shake the feeling that this was going to end badly. “Very well, let us speak of this no more.”

Orophin looked at him gaugingly. “You really are quite taken by her, aren’t you?”

Haldir’s only response was a stern gaze. It was a look Orophin had seen before and couldn’t possibly misinterpret; Haldir considered the subject closed and would not tolerate prying questions. Orophin shrugged mentally and let the matter rest. He had learned from experience that it was usually best not to provoke Haldir.

xxx

After Orophin had left, Haldir stored away his weapons and decided it was not too late for a bath. He took a towel from the linen closet and went out, heading for one of the city’s pools he frequented. It was one of his favourites, located in a secluded glade that offered bathers some privacy. It was not a very large pool, but it was close to his talan, the water had a pleasant temperature and nature had created a water feature there that he liked. The waters of the stream feeding the pool plunged down into it from one of the surrounding rocks: a miniature waterfall that added to the beauty and serenity of the place.

It was a popular bathing spot, but after sunset it was reserved for a select few-- elves who stood highly in the Lord and Lady’s favour and had been granted the privilege for that reason. As one of Lórien’s Marchwardens, Haldir was included in that group, and it was a privilege he used gladly. Sometimes he met his peers here, and on those occasions they would bathe together while discussing their experiences at the border, females, and other things men like to talk about when they are together.

But tonight the pool was deserted, which pleased Haldir greatly. With a fine smile playing at his lips, he started to undress.

He took off his boots, then his leather belt. He unhooked the fastenings of his tunic, shrugged the garment off his shoulders and tossed it on the ground, next to the already discarded items. At that point he paused and took a moment to stretch his back and his arms, rolling his head this way and that. Then he bent forward at the waist and placed his palms flat on the ground, holding that pose for a few moments as he breathed slowly in and out. He straightened again, let his fingers crack audibly and began to loosen the laces of his leggings.

When at length he was completely naked, he lowered himself onto one of the flat, sun-warmed boulders that surrounded the pool and slid into the water.

The size of the pool did not allow him to practise his breaststroke, so he settled for idle floating, enjoying the way the water enveloped him and washed him clean. It offered instant relaxation for his body, but unfortunately, peace of the mind was less easy to obtain.

_I am sure you will have more success elsewhere._

Haldir frowned slightly as the words Filanna had spoken to him earlier that evening floated back into his thoughts. He was not sure why, but the comment bothered him, as did her rejection in itself. All in all, he did not believe that he had made much progress today. During the target practice her icy demeanor had melted considerably, but after that she had been cold and distant again. And yet, what Orophin had told him proved that she was perfectly capable of being charming and kind.

Haldir sighed. Apparently the princess was determined to dislike him for some reason. A pity. Even if he really turned on the charm, it seemed unlikely that he would be able to break through her defences in a fortnight, especially when Orophin was in the picture-- his oh so gallant brother Orophin who had always had a way with the timid ellith. Filanna was obviously a very shy, very inexperienced little thing, and Haldir preferred his lovers a bit more daring and spontaneous. Ah, but that reminded him...

“You know you don’t have to play hide and seek with me, Luniel,” he said, turning his gaze to one particular mallorn. “How long must I wait for you to join me?”

Slowly, and with a semi-guilty smile on her face, a golden-haired elleth in a bright blue dress stepped into view, emerging next to the trunk of the mallorn she had been hiding behind after following him down here.

“I should have known you could sense me,” she said. “How long have you known?”

“All along, my dear.” His eyes flicked down and back up again, lingering appreciatively on the plunging neckline of her gown. “That is a lovely dress, by the way. But you might want to remove it before you join me.”

She came closer. “I have no towel with me.”

“I have one. Is that not enough?”

She laughed. “No, Haldir, I know how that would end. I prefer to stay clothed.”

“What a disappointment.”

She lowered herself to her knees behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. “I heard you came back yesterday. It is good to see you again.”

“Likewise, Luniel.” Haldir closed his eyes and tilted his head forward as she began to massage his neck and shoulders. “But I am sure that you have not been bored without me. Hmm, that feels wonderful.”

“Good. Relax a bit more.” Applying gentle pressure, she set to rubbing the tension from his muscles. “How long until your next shift?”

“A fortnight.” Haldir opened his eyes again. “How is your brother doing? He was still recuperating from his wound when I left for the border three weeks ago.”

“Ennion is recovered, and bouncing with impatience to return to the fences,” she replied. “I think the idiot is even proud of his first battle wound; he can't stop bragging about it, and our little brother is already talking of following his example once he comes of age.” She sighed. “You know, I think I will never understand you.”

“Me?”

“Males in general, and that inborn urge you all seem to have to go out there, swing your swords and spill blood.”

“The spilling of blood is not what we fight for,” Haldir corrected. “It is the safety of our people. The power of Nenya alone is not enough; Lórien _needs_ the protection our swords provide.”

“I realize that. But I cannot help but wish I had sisters instead of brothers.” She sighed again. “Then I wouldn’t have to be so worried all the time.”

“You should not worry about Ennion,” Haldir told her. “He is a fine warrior, and he has the heart of a lion. He fights to protect those he loves. Be proud of him.”

“I am.” A brief, thoughtful silence followed. “May I ask you something, Haldir?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“Was it always your dream to be a warden?”

He nodded. “It is the dream of many young ellyn. To be chosen is a great honour.”

“But if you had been rejected, what would you have done?”

Haldir smiled. “I would have gotten shamefully drunk, gone home and wept into my pillow.”

“That is not what I meant!” She laughed and pinched his shoulder. “What profession would you have pursued then?”

“I do not know,” Haldir said truthfully. “A warden was what I aspired to be, so I strove for that and nothing else. Perhaps I could have joined the Lord and Lady’s guard.”

“And what if one day our people leave Middle-earth? They will need no protection in Valinor. What will you do then?”

“Then I will miss fair Lothlórien, but find other ways to spend my time and make myself useful.” He smiled again. “What deep questions you ask me tonight, Luniel.”

“Sometimes I just wonder where we will all be,” she confessed, “a hundred or a thousand years from now. Whether the beauty of Lórien will be only a memory by then. Don’t you ever think about those things?”

“Sometimes, I do. But not too often and especially not tonight.” He slowly turned around to face her. “At the moment I am only wondering why you followed me down here.”

She returned his smile. “Because I was bored and had nothing better to do?”

He lifted his chin somewhat. “I would suggest you try a little flattery here, Luniel.”

“Oh, very well,” she said, conceding. “I confess I was hoping for... a kiss, for starters?”

“A kiss? But of course.” He took both her hands and started wading backwards. “Come here and get it.”

“What?” She tried to rise, resisting his pull, but she couldn’t free her hands from his larger and much stronger ones. She was on the verge of losing her balance but he continued to step back, grinning wickedly and enjoying her startled, wide-eyed look. “Haldir, don’t you dare! Haldir, no, I mean it!”

The next moment she fell in with a high-pitched squeak, her dress quickly absorbing water and soaking her to the skin. She gasped and struggled weakly in his arms, her teeth starting to chatter.

“Haldir, this is a new gown!” she cried out. Her voice was shrill with indignation.

“Now it is a wet gown,” he pointed out with calm amusement. “You said you wished to remain clothed and clothed you are. No reasons for complaint, I would say.” His gaze slid downward, appreciatively taking in how her peaked nipples strained visibly against the wet, now see-through fabric of her gown. “Hmm, I thought it was a lovely dress when dry, but I think I like it even better like this, my dear.”

“Ohh!” She glared at him with clenched fists, as if she could smack him any moment. “You are insufferable and a scoundrel! Let go of me at once!”

“Why? I have been promised a kiss, and I am still waiting for it.”

“No.” Pouting, she pushed at his chest. “I don’t feel like kissing you anymore.”

“No?” he murmured, leaning in and nipping playfully at the sensitive tip of her ear. “What a shame. I was just beginning to warm up.”

It was the truth. Her body was pressed against his, arousing him and causing stirrings of physical excitement in his loins. Still holding her with one arm around her waist, he reached beneath the skirt of her dress and let his fingers walk an upward path over the bare skin of her inner thigh.

“No, don’t,” she sighed, her eyelids falling half shut when he touched her intimately, lightly, teasing and tantalizing her. He leaned down to make a trail of soft butterfly kisses from her ear to her throat, feeling her tremble and breathe erratically as he slowly circled her pleasure spot with his thumb. His fore- and middle finger reached farther, slowly pushing in and being welcomed by a wetness that had nothing to do with the water.

“Don’t, Haldir,” she moaned. “Someone might come.”

“That is exactly what I am hoping to achieve, sweet one,” he murmured, his lips brushing the soft skin of her neck. Another teasing sweep of his thumb caused her to gasp, and for a moment he thought she would yield, but then her hands began to push at his chest again.

“But not here,” she said. “I am wet and cold and I want to get out.”

She wriggled and writhed and he let her go, watching as she pulled herself up onto shore. Somehow she even managed to do it gracefully. “Ah, you are no fun at all tonight, Luniel,” he said with a grin.

“You have a strange definition of the word ‘fun’, Haldir,” she grumbled, looking down at her drenched self. She removed her shoes and toweled off her hair as best as she could, but there was nothing she could do about her sodden dress.

“I am going home now,” she announced, “and change into something dry.” She stressed the last word with a reproachful look in his direction. “I expect you to join me soon and continue where you left off.”

Haldir, who had once again taken a relaxed position in the water, smiled lazily, enjoying the way her dress clung to her form and revealed more than she was probably aware of. “Hmm, I might. If I feel like it.”

“Be careful,” she warned him. “Two can play this game. Need I point out that I can take your clothes and towel? Not even you would go walking through Caras Galadhon naked, Haldir.”

He smirked. “Point taken. Give me fifteen minutes.”

After she had departed, he lingered in the pool for several more minutes, surprised to find that he was in no hurry to get out of the water and into her bed. Luniel was a sweet elleth, attentive and certainly entertaining between the sheets, but there were other things distracting him. Luniel’s questions had reminded him of his own concerns about Lórien and the future. He was not a pessimist at heart, but when an elf had seen as much as he had in his many years as a warden, darker thoughts inevitably took hold now and then, especially with the shadow in the East continuing to grow and gain power the way it had of late.

He sighed. And then there was Filanna who refused to be banned from his thoughts. Something about that elleth intrigued him, and it wasn’t her pretty face alone-- although of course that did please him a great deal. It had certainly not been without regret on his part that he had walked away from her earlier this evening, without even having stolen a kiss.

No, there was something more. Filanna puzzled him, and that was something few ellith had done before. She was a walking paradox-- painfully shy, stand-offish and distrustful, she had none of the poise and elegance one would expect from a princess of Mirkwood. But at the same time he found her endearing. She amused him, even-- with her pride and her defiance. He had always had a fondness for ellith with spirit, and Filanna had that in abundance. It pleased him how eager she had been to defend the honour of her realm when he challenged her. He realized it must not have been easy for her to perform with so many people watching, but she had done it nonetheless, and she had done very well. He admired her for it.

But he did not understand her lack of self-esteem. The royal family of Mirkwood was known to be a warm and loving one, and the King’s children were intelligent, educated and had had every opportunity to develop their individual talents. Filanna was also pretty and Orophin had remarked on her sense of humor, which Haldir had seen only glimpses of so far. There was no reason why she shouldn’t feel confident about herself, no reason why she shouldn’t have an extensive collection of admirers, like Haldir knew her sisters did.

Haldir remembered the older Mirkwood princesses; pretty creatures indeed, but they had not caught his attention the way Filanna had. Filanna’s loveliness was not of the striking kind; it was quiet and unobtrusive, but it was there and Haldir found it alluring. She reminded him of a small, shy flower hiding between the roots of a tree, hoping to remain unnoticed and closing her petals when someone came in for a closer look. But Haldir suspected that she had a few thorns too, and that she would not hesitate to use them when feeling threatened. He had not yet felt their full sting but he knew they were there. It was a shame, really. Such a lovely flower should not be marred by thorns.

But what to do with this flower? Plucking it was obviously not going to be an option – Haldir’s lips curved impishly at the thought – but it might be worth his while to wait and see if he could coax those tightly closed petals a little further open. He had managed it briefly today, and seen her beautiful smile as he had hoped. With the right approach, perhaps he could achieve a little more before she left. Yes, that would be interesting indeed.

Haldir finally got out of the water with some reluctance and dressed himself quickly. He threw the damp towel over his shoulder and was about to head for his talan when he suddenly remembered Luniel. Luniel who probably lay waiting for him impatiently in her canopied bed. Haldir grinned to himself as he realized what consequences it would have had if he _had_ actually forgotten to visit her tonight.

“Ouch,” he said with a chuckle. “That would not have been good.”

So he went, and because he felt a little guilty for almost having forgotten her, he made love to her with more enthusiasm than he really felt. After she had fallen asleep, however, he eased her out of his arms and quietly got dressed, bestowing a kiss on her temple before leaving. He did stay over sometimes; but tonight he would not.

It was already past midnight when he stepped outside and quietly closed the door behind him, and few Geledhil were outside at this hour. As he set out to go home, it soon occurred to him that the shortest route from Luniel’s talan to his own would lead him directly past Filanna’s talan. For a moment he considering making a detour, but he dismissed the idea. She was probably asleep anyway, and would never know that he had walked past.

He walked at a leisurely pace, enjoying the fresh night air and returning the greetings of the few passers-by. He did not know every single citizen of Caras Galadhon by name, but he had learned long ago that a Marchwarden’s name and face were known to all, and he had grown accustomed to his status as a local celebrity. It simply came with the position, and the Marchwardens were not the only ones whose names were household; the members of the Council enjoyed their share of local fame as well.

As he approached Filanna’s talan, Haldir was mildly surprised to see that a faint light was burning behind the drawn curtains. There was no movement that he could see, but as he walked past he thought he heard the sound of footfalls inside, indicating that Filanna was not yet in bed.

He had already passed her talan when he heard the sound of a door opening behind him. He halted and turned around, wondering if she had seen him walk past, but Filanna did not even seem to notice him as she rushed outside and pulled the door shut behind her. The first observation he made was that she seemed discomposed and preoccupied; next was the realization that she was dressed in nightwear, a long gown made of a thin, satin-like white material. It was an elegant piece of clothing, and so feminine that he was surprised to see it on her.

His lips slowly curving into a smile, he took a moment to look her up and down. This was a rare opportunity indeed, and one to be enjoyed to the fullest before the moment passed. The nightgown was far more flattering on her willowy figure than the leggings and tunics she chose to wear, and it graciously allowed him to admire parts of her body that had not been revealed to him before. And Valar, what a body it was! Her slender neck and the maidenly curve of her shoulders pleased him greatly, and the thin material of her garment did little to conceal the shape of her breasts. They were neither large nor small, perfect for her physique. Her hair was unbraided, and it spilled down her back freely, guiding his gaze to the swell of her buttocks.

Haldir grimaced as he came to the realization that in spite of his recent hour of pleasure with Luniel, the mere sight of Filanna in that gown had caused him to become aroused again. He had to stop this train of thought at once, so he forced himself to look at her face and said calmly, although the amusement was there for her to hear, “Lovely nightdress.”

Startled, she wheeled around, a soft gasp of shock and dismay escaping her when she recognized him. Her hand flew to the latch of the door, instinctively reaching for the only escape available, but for some reason she seemed reluctant to go back inside. After a moment's hesitation, she crossed her arms in front of her chest instead, as a belated protection against his prying eyes.

“You again!” she said with unconcealed displeasure. Her pretty lips had thinned to an offended line, but he could see the panic in her eyes and felt a little pang of pity for her. But he would not turn around and walk away, not yet; the possibilities this offered were far too tempting.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Are you spying on me, Marchwarden?”

He lifted his chin. “I have better things to do with my time, princess. I was merely walking past on my way home.”

“Well, keep walking then.” She gave him a dismissive one-handed wave, suddenly looking every inch the princess that she was. “There is nothing to see here.”

“Oh, but I disagree,” he said with a slow smile. “I find the view here most pleasing.”

Panic flared again in her eyes, and he could see her wondering frantically how much he had already seen. The white of her nightgown made the fiery red of her cheeks seem even brighter.

“Y-you cannot look at me like that!” she said, trying to adopt a commanding tone but failing miserably.

“No? What then should I have done?”

“Averted your eyes, of course!” She stared at him with a mixture of stupefaction and annoyance, as if she couldn’t believe he was even asking that question.

He chuckled. “You know even less about males than I thought, Filanna. But your naivety becomes you, I must say.”

Her eyes widened. “Orophin would have done it."

Haldir found he did not like that comment; did not like it because it confirmed his suspicion that Filanna was comparing him to Orophin, whom she already seemed to idolize quite a bit, and that the comparison didn’t flatter him at all. Even though Orophin really wasn’t guilty of anything, Haldir couldn’t help feeling annoyed with his youngest brother at that moment.

“He might have, eventually,” he replied, “but not right away. Orophin is a male too, Filanna, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I have noticed,” she said tartly. “But _Orophin_ is a gentleman.”

Ah, there it was; a little sting from those thorns. Haldir felt irritation rising within, but chose not to dignify her thinly veiled insult with a response.

“Believe whatever you want,” he said with a shrug. “But if I may ask, why are you outside standing on display if you do not want to be seen by wicked voyeurs like myself?”

“I am not standing on display!” she said defiantly. “I was only... I was only, uh...” Her voice trailed off.

“Yes, what?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled.

“Nothing? So you are standing here in your sleeping gown for no reason in particular?” He approached her slowly. “I find that hard to believe, my princess. The night is quite cool and you should not be outside in this state of dress.”

“I am fine,” she said, but he saw goose bumps popping out all over her arms when a breeze came sweeping through the branches. “And I am not your princess, Marchwarden.”

“Indeed, not mine in any respect,” he admitted. “But I insist that you go back inside, Filanna. Other ellyn might walk past and see you like this. Do you wish that?”

“No,” she said softly, avoiding his gaze. But she seemed no more inclined to go inside than she had before.

“Well then, what is it that keeps you here against your will?” He made sure not to stand too close to her, because he knew it would add to her consternation, but even across that distance he could smell the fresh scent of jasmine on her. Her hair was damp, suggesting that she too had bathed tonight, and he noticed that the shorter strands on her forehead and on either side of her face and neck curled ever so slightly.

“Well, if you really must know,” she said peevishly, “there is a crane fly inside, and I am terrified of those things.” She looked up at him with an expression that said, _are you happy now?_

Haldir felt a smile tug hard at his lips and had to make an effort to suppress it. Who would have guessed? The tough-as-nails archer princess was afraid of something, after all. “And standing outside in your nightgown is going to help... how?” he inquired.

She shrugged impatiently. “I don’t know! I was still figuring that out when you scared the life out of me.”

Haldir coughed discreetly to disguise the chuckle rising from his chest. He couldn’t help it, but Filanna was rather sweet and endearing in her defiance, and it made him want to lean down and kiss away those angry lines by her mouth. But he was certain that if he tried that, he would receive a ringing slap before he could actually start to enjoy it. So instead, he put his hand on the latch and said, “Well, shall we solve this quickly and painlessly? I will get rid of it for you, so that you can sleep in peace tonight.”

“No!” she said quickly, staying his hand with her own. “I do not need your help!”

By Varda, what a stubborn elleth she was. “Will you do it yourself, then? Or ask Orophin for help, perhaps? But surely you wouldn’t walk all the way to his talan dressed like this.”

“I don’t even know where he lives,” she said grudgingly.

“That complicates things, indeed. Well, then you may do the honours.” Haldir pushed the door open and stood back to see what she would do. Filanna threw a furtive glance into the room, then looked down at her feet. She did not move from her spot.

Haldir smirked. “Correct me if I am wrong, but does this mean that you would rather stay outside with me than be in one room with an insect? How very encouraging, princess. My heart is warmed by it.”

She glared at him, but said nothing. Haldir decided to interpret her silence as reluctant permission, which was all he needed.

“Well, where is this troublesome insect?” he asked, stepping across the threshold.

She made no move to follow him. “It isn’t exactly proper what you are doing,” she said, but she was not really protesting, merely sputtering a little. “My bedroom is private.”

“Filanna, you are standing before me in your nightgown. There is nothing proper about that either. Let’s just accept it and move on.” He winked and took her hand. “Don’t be embarrassed. Come.”

“What are you doing?” She frowned and tried to pull her hand out of his. “I am not going inside with you.”

“Oh yes you are, princess. I cannot leave you here outside in the cold, for everyone to see. I could not bear the thought.” He started to pull her inside, smiling wickedly. “Do not be afraid. You are quite safe with me, I assure you.”

“No,” she protested, putting up a struggle. “Don’t make me go inside while that thing is still in there!”

“Come, Filanna,” he urged gently, “what is the worst that can happen? Crane flies are completely harmless; they don’t even sting.”

“I know that,” she said, still resisting as he led her to the middle of the room. “But they get on my nerves anyway.”

“Why?” Haldir looked around, searching the walls, his eyes sliding over her scarce personal possessions as well. He saw some clothes, her archery gear and a book on her nightstand, and not much else.

“I don’t know.” She stood beside him, her head moving with little jerks as she glanced nervously left and right. “I hate the way they flutter and the sound of their wings hitting the ceiling. And those long, thin legs.” She shivered. “Just the thought of them gives me an itch.”

Smiling, Haldir stealthily lifted his hand and lightly brushed the backs of his fingers between her bare shoulder blades. “Like this?”

She practically jumped out of her skin, giving a shrill near-scream of panic as she leapt away from him, flapping her hands hysterically to chase away an insect that wasn’t there. It took her a moment to recover from the fright and realize what was really going on, and when she did, she glared at him with eyes that spat fire. “That was low!”

“Yes, I admit it was,” he said with a chuckle, “and I do humbly ask your forgiveness.” When Filanna continued to glare, he raised his hands and offered her his most apologetic smile. “Don’t strangle me just yet. I can see that you are sorely tempted, but remember, I am a fearless insect slayer on a quest to rescue a damsel.”

Her expression softened and changed into one of uncertainty. “You are not going to kill it, are you?”

“No, I am going to catch it and set it free, of course.” He continued his inspection of the talan’s interior, and the crane fly – apparently a creature with a sense of drama – chose that exact moment to come flitting down from its shadowy hiding place somewhere near the ceiling. Filanna gave another squeak of fear, reflexively grabbing Haldir’s arm with both hands and moving behind him, as if to use his body as a shield. Haldir watched the insect flutter to the other side of the room and land on the wall right above her nightstand.

“Go on then,” she whispered, still clutching hard at his arm. “Make it go away, please!”

“I would, princess, but I will have need of both my arms,” Haldir said, glancing at her over his shoulder.

She quickly let go of him, as if she hadn’t even realized what she was doing. Without looking back at her, he crossed the talan floor to where the crane fly was sitting on the wall, its six long legs spread out comfortably. He found it an intriguing and rather elegant creature and wondered how Filanna could think it so frightening, but he didn’t mind dealing with it for her. He was just surprised that Thranduil’s stalwart youngest could be so terrified of a mere insect.

The crane fly sat perfectly still as Haldir stretched out his hand in one smooth motion and placed it carefully over the insect with spread fingers, effectively trapping it. He then maneuvered his other hand underneath it and turned around to face Filanna, who was standing on the same spot and looking at him warily. The crane fly flitted between his cupped hands, desperate to escape from its confinement.

“Don’t come near me with that,” she warned him.

“Why are you so afraid of this?” he asked. “It is a harmless little thing, and all it wants is to get out of here.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” she replied tartly.

Smiling, Haldir walked to the window, leaned out of it and let the crane fly escape. Unharmed and happy to be free again, it flew away into the night. Haldir drew the curtains closed and turned to face Filanna, showing her his empty hands.

“The beast is gone,” he said. “You are safe, milady.”

She sighed. “Thank you.”

“And what does the lady’s rescuer get for his brave deed?” he asked, closing the distance between them.

With the insect gone, his nearness seemed to discomfit her anew, as if she suddenly remembered that they were actually alone, at night, in her bedchamber-- and that she was dressed in naught but a thin, rather revealing nightgown. Her arms came up again to shield her bosom. He almost smiled. Did she truly not realize that she might as well stop bothering, that he had already looked his fill?

“You get my gratitude,” she said softly. “Is that not enough?”

“Hardly.” He pointed at his cheek suggestively, striking a playful tone. “Haldir was hoping for a kiss.”

She blushed hard and was silent for a moment, as if she was considering her answer. “If I give you what you want this time, will you then go and leave me alone?” she asked eventually, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor.

“Aye, I will.”

 _For tonight_ , he added in thought.

Shifting on her feet, she nodded in half-hearted agreement. He leaned down and was not really surprised when he received a hasty, feather-light brush of lips upon his cheek. She drew back just as hurriedly, still refusing to look at him as she stood before him awkwardly, her arms stiffly crossed in front of her chest. Again he smelled the scent of jasmine blossoms that lingered on her skin and he had to fight back the urge to take her by the waist, pull her against him and kiss her like she had never been kissed before. His hands simply itched at the thought, but he kept them behind his back as he bowed slightly and wished her a good night for the second time that day.

“Haldir?” she said hesitantly as he was on his way out the door.

He turned around to face her once more. “Yes?”

She plucked at the silky fabric of her nightdress. “You will not... tell... anyone about this, will you?”

Haldir smiled and brought his hand to his heart. “Have no fear, princess; not a living soul will hear about what transpired here tonight.” He winked at her. “It will be our little secret.”

Haldir left Filanna’s talan in high spirits a moment later, grinning all the way home. If there was anything tempering his cheerful mood, it was the somewhat troubling realization that sex with Luniel hadn’t left him half as euphoric as Filanna’s chaste little kiss just had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gwanur = brother (S)
> 
> For those who don’t know, a crane fly is a long-legged slender fly of the family Tipulidae, sometimes lovingly called ‘daddy longlegs’. It looks like a large mosquito but does not bite. I realize it is a rather silly thing for an elf to be afraid of, but if you enjoyed reading this chapter half as much as I enjoyed writing it, we're golden. :)


	5. A Peace Offering

If there was such a thing as a magic hour, it would have to be the final hour of daylight in Lothlórien, when the light of the setting sun filtered through the mallorn leaves and lent everything a soft golden hue. Then, once the stars appeared and small children had gone to bed, it was time for lovers to take a walk in the moonlight and for friends to come together and make merry. Filanna however did not partake in any revelry. Curled up in a comfortable chair in her talan, she was writing in her journal as she did almost every day.

A full week had gone by since she first arrived in Lórien, although it felt like a shorter time. She had gone out riding every day, and to her surprise and delight Orophin had joined her twice more. Together they spent long days out, usually not returning to Caras Galadhon until the end of the afternoon. Orophin had not lied when he said that he knew the forest like the back of his hand, and he had many an interesting story to tell. It was not difficult for her to enjoy his company.

There was only one problem. Whenever she was in his presence, she found it almost impossible to look at him without being reminded of his brother. Indeed, her thoughts kept returning to Haldir, completely involuntarily and much more often than she would like. The disastrous incident with the crane fly was still fresh in her mind, and the memory of her silly behaviour that night made her cringe with embarrassment every time. That Haldir had seen her in her nightwear was humiliating enough, but she had made matters ten times worse by behaving like a complete idiot-- as usual.

Filanna sighed. How silly she was, to let a mere insect intimidate her so much, and how very unfortunate that he had been there to see her in that moment of weakness. Truly, what were the odds that Haldir of all people should walk past her talan at that exact moment? The Valar must have a cruel sense of humor indeed, not unlike Haldir himself. That wicked elf seemed perfectly aware of the effect he had on her and milked it for all it was worth, making her feel like an utter fool whenever he was near her. Surely the opportunity to act as her so-called rescuer and the kiss he had coaxed from her afterwards had stroked his male pride more than was good for him.

She felt strangely conflicted. Haldir was intimidating, arrogant and overbearing, a combination of characteristics that made it impossible for her to like or even tolerate him, but she could not deny that she was also secretly jealous of him. She could not imagine what it felt like to be so confident in one’s own skin. Haldir probably was afraid of nothing. It was infuriating and enviable.

And there was something else, something she found even more difficult to admit. The Marchwarden certainly knew how to be charming, and despite everything a small, hidden part of her – the part that contained what little femininity she possessed – was not entirely immune to it. That part was even strangely flattered that such an attractive elf, a warrior of renown who could probably have all the females he wanted, paid attention to her. But she never allowed herself to dwell on those thoughts longer than a moment or two. She was little more than a face and a body to him, and not for all the treasures in the world would she become the next trophy in his prize cabinet.

Thankfully, he seemed to have given up on her already. It was only to be expected, for what self-respecting male would continue to pursue an elleth who either snapped at him or turned into a stammering, dim-witted imbecile whenever he was near? Actually, it surprised her that he did not loathe her by now, for she had certainly given him reason enough to do so. Yet he never treated her unkindly, in fact he always greeted her when they happened to meet, and he always did so with that strange little smile on his face, as though he was entertained by something. She tried not to think of what it could be, although she had her suspicions. But all of their recent interactions had been brief and formal in nature, and that was fine with her.

A visit to the archery field had also become part of her daily routine. On one of those occasions she had witnessed an event of some significance: Lord Celeborn had made an appearance, accompanied by none other than her personal tormentor Haldir. Their arrival caused a slight, but palpable change in the atmosphere, and Filanna could see several young archers getting nervous as the two sauntered across the field together, observing and conversing quietly. Filanna heard the excited murmurs around her and wondered if she was missing something important.

The elf in the lane next to hers saw her questioning look and explained, “When the warden selections draw near, Lord Celeborn and the Marchwardens are known to occasionally pay a surprise visit to the training fields. It gives them a better idea of what to expect in August, when many Geledhil try for a position as a border warden.”

“There is a selection procedure?”

“Oh yes, every five years. It is a highly anticipated event, and the participants not seldom train for years in advance. Celeborn and the Marchwardens form a critical panel of judges, but that makes the honour of being chosen all the greater.”

“I didn’t know so much was involved in becoming a warden,” Filanna said.

“Well, it is one of the most sought after positions,” the elf said, “but one of the most demanding also. The selections offer everyone a chance to try and prove themselves, but only the very best will make the cut.”

She nodded in understanding, remembering that Legolas had had to go in for a similar test many years ago. Being the prodigy that he was, he had passed the first time, of course, and with flying colours at that.

Eventually the duo reached her lane, and Celeborn smiled benevolently at Filanna. “What do you think, Haldir? Do we have warden material here?”

Haldir rubbed his chin semi-thoughtfully. “Oh, I don’t know, my lord. Archery skills are more than satisfactory, to that I can testify, but she owes allegiance to another realm. I fear she would not take commands from me.”

Filanna blushed at that and Celeborn laughed heartily. “That would be a problem, indeed,” he said, briefly placing a hand on Filanna’s shoulder before moving along. Haldir gave her a good-humored wink as he followed his lord, and the conversation ended there. Nothing in his gaze or bearing suggested that he had ever flirted with her to begin with, and for that she was grateful, because he had a brash flirting style that had made her uncomfortable from the very first moment they met. She simply wasn't used to that kind of attention. How did other females handle it? She really had no idea.

 _He doesn’t flirt with just any female_ , Orophin had said. How was she supposed to interpret that comment? Had she been too quick to label Haldir as an unscrupulous libertine? Was he genuinely attracted to her? It was hard to believe. She had never thought of herself as pretty or desirable in any way, and the possibility that someone else _did_ , was... well, bewildering to say the least.

Not that it mattered. She had never felt that courtship and marriage were in the cards for her. And this was just one strange, flirtatious Galadhel. Soon she would be back in Mirkwood and everything would return to normal.

A few knocks on the door interrupted her thoughts. Filanna, wrapped up in her musings as she had been, looked up from her journal in surprise. She was not expecting anyone. Who could it be? Orophin? Or Haldir, maybe? She could think of no one else here in Caras Galadhon who might want to visit her. She got up and went to answer the door, hoping that if it really was one of the brothers, it would be the younger one.

When she opened the door, however, she found herself looking at a far more familiar face.

“Ada,” she said in surprise. Her father had not come to her talan before, and she saw him only at mealtimes these days, because his days were packed with scheduled meetings. She certainly didn't envy him for it.

“Good evening, daughter,” Thranduil said with a smile. “Is my visit badly timed? I wanted to see how my youngest is doing, so I slipped out and left Rínion to admire Celeborn's library on his own.”

“It is not inconvenient, Ada,” she replied warmly. “Do you want to come in for a cup of tea?”

“I have a better idea,” he said. “I spend more than enough time indoors as it is these days, so I was hoping we might take a stroll together.” He offered her his arm. “Would you indulge your old Ada?”

Filanna smiled. “How can I refuse? Just give me a second to get ready.”

She quickly went back inside to snuff out the lamps and put on her boots, then joined her father who was waiting outside.

“Are the negotiations going well?” she inquired as they walked side by side at a leisurely pace, the velvet of the King’s long robes whispering quietly with every step.

“I believe so,” he replied. “There is every appearance that we will be able to round them off to everyone's satisfaction in less than a week.”

She kicked absent-mindedly at a small twig lying on the path. “And will we go home then?”

He glanced at her with an expression of mild surprise and concern. “Are you that eager to leave? I thought you were having a good time.”

Quick to reassure him, she squeezed his arm and said, “I am, Ada, but I also miss Naneth and Legolas and the others.”

“Hmm.” He smiled slightly. “But Lórien is such a fair land and has so many distractions to offer. Ameria had been here only a few days when she declared that she wanted to move to Caras Galadhon permanently.”

“That sounds like her, indeed.” Filanna laughed. Her sister had without a doubt found much to love in Lórien: not the beauty of the place itself, but that of its male inhabitants. And she knew that her father knew that, too. “I do enjoy it here, Ada, truly. But there is nothing like home.”

Her father’s next question caught her off-guard. “What about this Orophin?”

She glanced at him sideways, puzzled and a bit wary. “What about him?”

“Do you find his company agreeable? From what I hear, I would say he has taken a liking to you.” Thranduil’s emerald green eyes held a familiar sparkle as he regarded her attentively.

“Ada,” she said slowly, “what are you implying?”

“Implying?” the King said. “I am implying nothing.”

“Yes, you are. You are thinking bad things, I can see it in your eyes.”

Thranduil chuckled. “I am just teasing you, pen tithen. I was only wondering whether you are enjoying the guided tours of the Lórien sights.”

“I do enjoy them.” She smiled. “Orophin is an excellent guide... and pleasant company.”

“Good.” Her father looked pleased. “I would hate the idea of you sitting out these weeks in boredom while Rínion and I busy ourselves with conferences and politics. I realize we do not have much time for you, and it does weigh on my conscience.”

“Don't feel bad, Ada,” she said. “I knew this was not going to be a holiday for you, and Lórien does not strike me as a place where one gets bored easily.”

“That is true.” He nodded. “And the Galadhrim are not a dull people.”

“Indeed they are not,” Filanna agreed. She hesitated for a few moments, wondering if she could take the risk of mentioning the one Galadhel who had kept her more occupied than any of the others. She cleared her throat and asked in what she hoped was a casual tone: “Do you happen to know Haldir, Ada?”

“The Marchwarden?” Thranduil said. “I cannot say that I do, but Celeborn and Galadriel always speak very highly of him. The Marchwardens of Lórien enjoy a great deal of respect, and from what I have heard, Haldir is held in high repute.”

“Is he?” she asked, and something in her voice must have given her away, for Thranduil levelled a gauging look at her.

“I was not aware that you knew him, Fila-nîn.”

“I don’t really know him,” she said with a dismissive shrug, avoiding his gaze. “We have talked a few times, that is all. He is Orophin’s brother.”

“Is he, now.” Her father's suspicion, once roused, was not that easily quenched. “Has he been giving you any trouble?”

She took a silent breath, deliberating quickly within herself. She should have known better than to hope he would be deluded by her ‘casual’ inquiry. Thranduil was no fool, and he guarded his children’s welfare like a lion his litter. Should he get wind of what was playing between Haldir and herself, there was no predicting what he would do. The thought that he might go into a fit of fatherly protectiveness and confront Haldir on the matter was too mortifying for words. She would never be able to look Haldir in the eye again.

“No, Ada,” she said. “I was merely curious.”

She met his gaze without flinching. Did he believe her? She hoped fervently that he did, and that he would not press the matter. She had no desire to describe to her father the looks Haldir had given her, the insinuations he had made.

She would handle Haldir on her own. She _could_ handle him on her own.

“I met him on the archery field, almost a week ago,” she went on explaining. There was no harm in admitting that. “All the targets were taken, but he kindly allowed me to share his and we shot a few arrows together. And Ada, do you know what he said?”

“No, iell nîn, what did he say?”

“He said that I performed really well, and that he was impressed.” Remembering it brought back the pride she had felt that day, and it shone through in her voice. “Do you think he meant it, Ada? He wasn’t just saying it to be polite?”

 _... Or to talk me into his bed?_ she added in thought.

Thranduil smiled. “I don’t think so, Filanna. The Marchwarden is not the kind of elf who hands out empty compliments, not even for the sake of courtesy. He is a strict authoritarian and drillmaster, according to Gilgador.”

Filanna was surprised. Gilgador was the formidable captain of the Mirkwood guard, who could easily carry that epithet himself. He had faithfully served the kings of her father’s line all the way back to her great-grandfather, and was respected and feared by all who stood under his command. The fact that he had remarked on Haldir’s leadership at all was significant, yet for some reason she had difficulty picturing Haldir in that role, barking and bellowing orders the way Gilgador always did when instructing the recruits.

Their conversation moved on to different topics after that. After a week in strange surroundings, Filanna found it extremely comforting to touch base with someone who was so thoroughly familiar, someone who knew her through and through and reminded her of the home she had been missing. A half hour went by like a sigh, and Filanna was so engrossed in the story her father was telling her at the time that she didn’t notice Galadriel until they were almost directly in front of her. The Lady of Light was standing alone on a flet – tall and beautiful, dressed in a stunning white gown, her hands joined together in front of her – and somehow Filanna felt that she had been waiting for them to arrive.

“My lady,” Filanna murmured in greeting, curtseying slightly as she still held her father’s arm.

“Good evening, Filanna.” Galadriel gave her a warm smile before turning to the King. “Thranduil, I would request a word with you.”

“Again?” He sighed. “We do nothing but talk these days, Galadriel. And now is not a good time for me, I’m afraid; I am enjoying an evening walk with my daughter.”

“This time I wish to discuss something of a more personal nature.” Galadriel smiled. “But it is not so urgent that it cannot wait until tomorrow.”

“It is fine, Ada,” Filanna told her father before he could respond. “I do not mind. We can continue our conversation later.”

“Are you certain?” He gave her an apologetic smile. “For it is not at all chivalrous to take a young lady out for a walk and then abandon her halfway for another.”

“Yes, Ada, I am very certain.” She reached up to kiss him on the cheek. “I can find the way back on my own. Thank you for the stroll.”

“My pleasure as always, Fila-nîn.”

After Thranduil and Galadriel left, however, Filanna decided that she did not yet wish to return to her talan, and instead of turning back, she continued in the same direction as before. Just as Orophin had predicted, she was starting to understand the intricate system of paths, bridges and stairs that was Caras Galadhon, and she walked a little absent-mindedly, regretting the loss of her father’s company. People looked at her curiously as she passed by, but she avoided their gazes and tried not to hear their muted conversations. She hated being stared at.

She eventually decided to head down to the forest floor in the hope of finding some solitude. Her talan was not an unpleasant place at all, but she could only spend so much time there without getting bored and restless. Fond of the outdoors as she was, enclosed spaces could never keep her entertained for long, and since her days in Lórien were numbered, she had better enjoy them while she could.

After some aimless wandering between the mighty mallorn trees, she noticed the sound of running water and followed it until she came upon a site that was too inviting to pass by. There was a shallow stream, less than four feet in width, its waters so clear that she could see every pebble on the bottom as if through a crystal glass. Unable to resist, she lowered herself to her knees in the grass and tested the water with the tips of her fingers. Icy cold, as she had expected; it was one of the many mountain streams in this area, fed by the cold rains and melting snow in the heart of the Misty Mountains. It probably met Anduin the Great further to the south, or Celebrant perhaps.

She pulled up her sleeve and plunged her hand deeper into the water, raking her fingers through the pebbles on the bottom, heedless of the biting cold. She occupied herself thusly for a while, reflecting on the conversation with her father and wondering why she didn’t feel more excited about going home soon. It was what she wanted, wasn’t it?

Admittedly, she had come to appreciate Lórien, and Orophin deserved most of the credit for that. She was now able to admit that she had behaved a bit foolishly, making a drama out of something that was meant to be fun and enriching. A trip to fair Lothlórien was something many ellith her age could only dream of. And it had turned out to be nowhere near as bad as she had feared. She was even prepared to say that she was enjoying it to an extent; but she was always aware that she did not belong here. Lórien wasn’t Mirkwood and it wasn’t home. And the Galadhrim were strangers to her. No one here really cared whether she was around or not.

So in theory, her father’s announcement of their imminent departure should have lifted her spirits. But it hadn’t, and if she was completely honest with herself, she thought she knew the reason. For returning to Mirkwood also meant returning to the meaninglessness of courtly life, and the duties and restrictions that came with it. She had no friends at home, and no occupation other than being her father’s daughter. What it all boiled down to, basically, was that she was as useless there as she was here in Lórien. Some people would think her ungrateful, but the truth was that she would give up her royal privileges instantly if in turn she could make one or two drastic changes in her life.

Her ancestry set her apart, that was a fact and she had become aware of it at a very young age. One afternoon, many years ago, she had seen a group of playing children from her nursery window and scraped together the courage to approach them. Legolas was a wonderful playmate, but he had other friends too and didn’t always have time for her. She longed to make new friends among her peers, but instead learned a hard lesson that day.

“What, you?” one of the children said after she had shyly asked if she could join the game. “You want to play with us?”

“Yes, I would like that,” she said timidly.

“Are we suddenly good enough for you now?” another said. “Is the high and mighty Princess Filanna tired of playing with her expensive toys?”

“What? No...” Filanna was completely taken aback by the hostile reaction. Why were her toys of any importance?

If she had asserted herself at that moment, everything might have turned out fine, but the group had sensed her vulnerability and turned against her as a united front. “Go away,” they told her. “You do not belong here. We do not play with spoiled little princesses like you.”

Filanna still remembered all too well the pain and humiliation she had felt that day many years ago, being rejected and ridiculed by her peers rather than accepted and welcomed. At that tender age, words could wound like knives and leave a permanent scar, and Filanna knew that most of her shyness and lack of self-esteem could be traced back to that one incident. With just a few cruel words, those children had instilled in her the firm belief that she was, and always would be, a freak. 

“Look at that,” one of them had said when she teared up. “She’s going to cry, the big baby!”

They had all laughed, but then one young male said, “Hush, Arvenel. If you make her cry, she’ll go running to her father and then we will all be punished. Let’s just ignore her; she’ll go away soon enough.”

They all turned away from her then, continuing their game as if she didn’t exist. She had left, fighting back tears of confusion and disappointment as she went. Among the children had been a boy called Narnion; he had visited the palace a few times with his parents, who were friends of the family, and because he and Filanna were practically of the same age they had played together while their parents discussed the things that concerned grown-ups. But that day he had mocked her just like the others, acting as if he had never seen her in his entire life. She had secretly thought of him as a friend, yet he had not stood up for her. It felt like betrayal, and it hurt a lot.

The next time Narnion’s parents visited with their son, Filanna had stubbornly refused to pay any attention to him, much to the surprise of the adults. They had tried to pry an explanation out of them, but both elflings had been silent as the grave. Filanna had never told her parents about what had happened, for that would have proven those children right about her, and she would not grant them that satisfaction.

In hindsight, it had been a minor incident. She did realize now that those children had treated her that way out of jealousy and ignorance. But the damage had been done. Once bitten twice shy, Filanna was left with a crippling fear of rejection and judgment that had influenced all of her social interactions through the years and sabotaged any chance of friendship she may have had. She could not reason those fears away; her shyness always prevailed. It was a handicap and she hated it, but even if she knew how to get past it, she didn’t know if she could.

“Filanna?”

She swallowed with difficulty and quickly drew a sleeve over her eyes before looking up at the elf whose voice she had already recognized. Haldir, of course, the Marchwarden with the impeccable timing. That elf had a way of walking in on her when she was at her weakest and most vulnerable, and she hoped against hope that he would not notice her puffy eyes. He stood a small distance away, his hands behind his back as he regarded her with a look that revealed just a little curiosity. He was wearing leggings of the darkest green, and a white tunic enveloped his powerful torso.

“Yes?” she said in as casual a tone as she could manage.

“I saw you sitting here by yourself,” he offered by way of explanation. “I decided to come and see if you were in want of some company.”

She frowned. “No, I enjoy the solitude.”

“Ah.” He inclined his head slightly. “Very well, in that case I’ll be on my way again. Good evening.”

As she watched him turn around and walk away, she suddenly felt thoroughly annoyed with herself. Good gracious, she never learned, did she?

“Haldir, wait.”

He turned to look at her questioningly. She sighed, not returning his gaze. “You may stay, if you like. But I do not advise it. I am not exactly entertaining company right now.”

In the silence that followed, Filanna felt his penetrating gaze on her and wondered what he was thinking. Those eyes of his seemed capable of drilling a hole in her skull and reading her most secret thoughts.

She felt almost certain that he would decline her less than warm invitation, but after a few moments he came back and sat down next to her. She immediately felt it again, that instant self-consciousness that reared its head whenever he was near. It was almost physical: all her movements lost their spontaneity, her palms became clammy and when she talked to him, all the words seemed to come out the wrong way. Males often had that effect on her, but with Haldir, it was worse than with most. He exuded confidence and authority apparently without even trying, and he had an air of controlled strength and almost palpable _maleness_ about him that made it impossible for her to string an intelligible sentence together.

“So, how are you?” she asked awkwardly when the silence became unbearable.

“Quite well, princess. And you?” One corner of his mouth curved up slowly. “No more vicious insects disturbing your night’s rest?”

Filanna almost groaned. Oh Varda, did he really have to bring that up? He might as well have said, _Remember that night when you made a complete fool out of yourself?_ She wanted to forget it had ever happened, but obviously he wasn’t going to let her.

“No...” She plucked at the grass between her knees. “No more insects.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

He regarded her silently for a few moments before surprising her with his next question. “Are you a little homesick, princess?” The look in his eyes was milder now, without hidden amusement.

“What?” She looked up at him. “Why do you ask me that?”

“You said you weren’t entertaining company, and you do look rather downcast. I thought perhaps you missed Mirkwood.”

She lowered her eyes, taken aback by his apparently genuine concern. “I do miss it a little, but homesickness is for elflings. Lórien is a lovely place, and besides, I will be home again soon. Ada says we will depart in a week.”

“Must we say farewell to our honoured guests so soon?” he said with a smile. “What a loss for Lórien.”

She gave a little smile in return. “You are being dramatic, Marchwarden.”

“Only a little.” To her utter amazement and shock, he reached out unexpectedly and took her hand, wrapping it in a warm, large palm and long fingers. Filanna nearly gasped and instinctively tried to pull back her hand, but he didn’t let go. It was not the first time that he touched her uninvited; in fact he seemed to have no scruples about that at all, but two elves holding hands by a rippling brook had a far too romantic connotation for her tastes.

“Once you are back in Mirkwood, reminiscing about your meeting with the Galadhrim, will you try not to think too unkindly of me?” he asked with the tiniest hint of mischief in his voice.

“W-what?” she stammered, stupefied. “What are you talking about?”

“I know I didn’t make the best of impressions. I would hate the idea of you telling your friends about that nuisance Haldir who completely ruined your stay in Lórien for you.”

“I don’t have any friends,” she said without thinking, weakly attempting to free her hand again. “And why do you care about what I think of you?”

“Because I do.” His eyes bored into hers. “Do you think me incapable of caring?”

“N-no,” she said, shrinking under his scrutiny. “I didn’t mean that. B-but...”

“But you don’t trust me,” he completed calmly. “I have contributed to that, I know. I readily admit that I have a big mouth and a strange sense of humor. But it was never my intention to offend you in any way. I mean you no harm, Filanna.”

Filanna was at a loss for words, utterly confounded by the things he was saying. Was he actually offering some kind of apology? It certainly seemed like it, and it forced her to rethink her opinion of him, for she had not thought him capable of being this sincere. And oh, why did he have to be so confusingly _nice_? What was she supposed to tell him? Those eyes of his had a way of freezing her mind.

“You haven’t ruined my stay in Lórien,” she said eventually, not knowing what else to say.

“I am relieved to hear it.” He smiled and added, “Your hand is very cold, princess.”

She instantly tried to pull her hand out of his again, and this time he let go. “The water is to blame for that,” she mumbled, looking at the stream beside them. “It is icy cold.”

He nodded. “It comes from the mountains.”

“I thought as much. Does it have a name?”

“The stream? Not to my knowledge.”

A silence fell. Filanna played with her braid as she struggled once more to form an intelligent sentence to say. His declaration and his honesty were as unexpected as they were discomfiting, but in her heart, she was also appreciative, and she wanted him to know that.

Before she could gather her courage for an apology of her own, he spoke again. “Now look at that,” he said, his eyes on something behind her. Turning and following his gaze, she saw what had attracted his attention. A yellow flower, a mallorn blossom by the looks of it, came drifting downstream, whirling slowly as it was tossed left and right by the current. Apparently it had fallen into the water further upstream. Filanna watched it drift past, but Haldir reached out, took the flower from the water and offered it to her with a flamboyant gesture. Her face flushed red instantly.

“I think this is for you,” he said with a smile.

She stared at the flower he held out to her, then glanced quickly at his face. “Haldir... I...”

“Take it, it’s safe. It won’t bite you.” His eyes sparkled teasingly. “Consider it a token of my goodwill.”

She accepted the flower hesitantly. This was insane. Being offered flowers by handsome males, that was something that happened to other ellith, not to her! She wanted to pinch herself and find out if she was dreaming.

She instinctively brought the flower to her nose to inhale its sweet scent. “Thank you,” she mumbled, her face still glowing like hot coals.

“The stream should have a name,” he said. “After today I shall call it Lythannor, Flower-Giver.”

She looked up and nodded shyly. “I like that.”

He smiled and got up. “Now, to my regret, I must be off. I have a note that must be sent to my brother Rúmil at the border tonight. I was on my way to do just that when I saw you.” He paused briefly. “You are welcome to accompany me, if you want.”

“Accompany you?” She stared at the elf who now towered over her. “To where?”

“That is a surprise.” The expression on her face made him chuckle. “Now you are giving me that suspicious look again, Filanna. Have no fear; I am not planning to drag you into the bushes and steal your honour, if that is your concern. My intentions are honourable. We will just take a little walk and you will return to your talan safe and sound, you have my word.”

Her first, automatic reaction was to decline, and she already opened her mouth to do so, but then she stopped herself. Even after what he had said, could she still not find it in her heart to show him a little more trust? What had he really done wrong, after all? Countless females would have loved to be wooed thusly by Haldir. It was not his fault that she was not appreciative. He said he meant well by her, and she did believe him. Perhaps this was a chance to let him know that.

“Very well,” she said. “I will come with you.”

His smile broadened, and he held out his hand to help her get up, but she scrambled to her feet unassisted. “Let’s go, Marchwarden.”

He swept out an arm, gallantly indicating the direction from which he had come. “This way, princess.”

xxx

In order to speak privately, Thranduil and Galadriel had gone to Galadriel’s private room in the main hall. It held an elegant oaken desk, heavily laden bookcases and several comfortable chairs. Galadriel indicated that Thranduil could take a seat and closed the door behind her.

“Well, Galadriel,” he said as he eased his tall body into one of the chairs, arranging his robes so that he could sit comfortably. “You have my undivided attention, so torment me no longer with your enigmatic silence. This concerns something personal, you said?”

“Indeed.” She moved away from the door and sat down in the opposite chair. “I wish to speak with you about Filanna.”

“Filanna?” He frowned; this was the very last thing he had been expecting. “Why?”

“Tell me, Thranduil,” Galadriel said, joining her hands in her lap. “Does Filanna get on well with her brothers and sisters?”

“Yes, very well,” he replied, still puzzled by the turn this conversation had taken. “Of course the occasional quarrel or disagreement does occur, but on the whole, we run a peaceful household.”

“She is very shy, though, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” he said with a sigh. “Shy and withdrawn, unlike her siblings. She has always been like that; I don’t know her differently.”

“She has not been away from home before, has she?”

“No. She is young still and never showed any interest in travel. But this time...” He shrugged slightly. “My wife and I thought it was time for her to see something of the world outside Mirkwood and meet other people.”

“I agree,” Galadriel said. “It can be a very valuable experience. But two weeks is too short a time, especially for an elleth like Filanna, who does not make friends easily.”

Thranduil nodded slowly. “Regrettably, I cannot stay longer. The piles of paperwork on my desk grow daily during my absence, and the Council expects me to return as soon as possible.”

“I understand.” Galadriel sat back in her chair. “And that is why I have a proposition for you.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Allow Filanna to stay here for an extended period of time. I will personally take her under my wing and I think that with time, she will come crawling out of her shell.” Galadriel smiled. “I mean no offense, my friend, but I have the feeling that she is not being challenged in Mirkwood. No one is shy by choice, but in her current situation she is not being encouraged to change herself. She is accepted the way she is because – you said it yourself – she has never been different, and therefore she accepts it too. She probably believes she was meant to be this way.”

Thranduil gave a slight, wistful smile. “I see what you mean, Galadriel, and I am beginning to feel like a negligent parent for not addressing the issue myself. But aside from being shy, Filanna never gave us any cause for concern. She always did well with her studies, never needed correcting or stepped out of line, although there were some altercations with my stewards. We did notice that she isn’t as sociable as her brothers and sisters, but she seemed to get by.” He shrugged helplessly. “Filanna is a very determined young lady, and we have let her walk her own path at her own pace, perhaps too much so.”

“Do not blame yourself,” Galadriel said kindly. “I have seen you with your children and can safely say that you are not a bad father. In fact, I think you have a talent-- for making children as well as for raising them.”

Thranduil smirked. He and Aeriel were used to teasing comments about their fertility. “Galadriel, Galadriel,” he said with mock disapproval, shaking his head. “I cannot believe you said that.”

“All joking aside,” she said, unable to suppress a chuckle, “all your children have grown up to be fine individuals. Taken into consideration that you have seven of them and a kingdom to rule as well, I would say that you have every reason to be proud. We can be surprisingly blind where our own children are concerned, and children can be surprisingly proficient at throwing dust in their parents’ eyes.”

Thranduil smiled. “Alas, that is only too true.”

“Let Filanna stay here, Thranduil,” Galadriel insisted. “I have thought it over carefully, and I truly believe that the change will be good for her. I have already consulted Celeborn and he approves as well.”

Thranduil hesitated. “I usually do not make decisions about my children without having heard Aeriel’s opinion.”

She nodded understandingly, waiting while Thranduil considered the matter.

“But I do believe that she would agree with you on this, Galadriel,” he said eventually. “And who am I to argue with two women both older and wiser than I?”

She smiled. “So you agree to my proposal?”

“I do, but Filanna is not a child anymore. I deem it important that she agrees to it as well, and stays behind willingly when Rínion and I depart.” He grimaced. “And I have a feeling that she will not be leaping for joy. She seemed quite eager to return home.”

“I thought as much.” Galadriel laughed softly and reached out to pat Thranduil’s knee reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Thranduil. I know my rhetorics. If Filanna refuses the offer I intend to make her, I shall be very surprised indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iell nîn = my daughter (S)  
> pen tithen = little one


	6. Conflicts Of The Heart

Unaware of the fact that decisions about her future were being made behind her back, Filanna climbed the stairs of a magnificent mallorn tree at Haldir’s side, experiencing some ambivalent emotions as she did so. Haldir was the one Galadhel whose company she had wanted to avoid, but on the other hand, their conversation by the stream had revealed a different side of him that was not entirely disagreeable. Why not make an effort to show him that she too could be friendly and entertaining if she wanted to? It was an excellent opportunity to repair some of the damage she had done earlier by being so hostile to him. She did not want him to think that she was truly the petulant creature she often turned into when near him, so she tried to be charming, smiling and babbling the way she would do when conversing with one of her siblings, or Orophin possibly. She had tucked the yellow flower, his gift to her, behind her ear and was successfully keeping a conversation going about archery, a safe subject that was of interest to them both.

“It is refreshing to speak of these things with an elleth,” he said at one point, with the directness that seemed to be so characteristic of him. “I do not often encounter archers of the fairer sex. Tell me, are you as skilled with the sword as you are with bow and arrow?"

She almost laughed, but then she realized that he was actually asking her a serious question, so she replied accordingly. “No, blades don’t interest me. I practise archery for sport alone, and I know how to handle a butter knife, but my skill ends there. I have often watched my brother Legolas practising with his knives, though. In Mirkwood many warriors prefer the smaller blades, like daggers and hunting knives, over the traditional sword.”

He nodded. “That is true. It had slipped my memory, but I do remember witnessing knife practices during my visits to Mirkwood. It is one of the skills the warriors of your land are renowned for.”

“You have been to Mirkwood?” This piece of information should not have surprised her, for had Orophin not told her that Haldir had travelled quite a lot? Mirkwood was one of the three great elven realms, and not that far from Lórien at all; it was perfectly logical that he had visited it on one or more of his travels. And yet, the thought of him actually setting foot in her homeland had never occurred to her until now.

“As a matter of fact I have, princess.” He seemed amused. “Last time I was a guest in your father’s realm, your brother Legolas was an adorable, chubby little babe who pulled Galadriel’s hair and salivated on Celeborn’s most expensive robe.”

“Oh Valar, he didn’t!” Filanna said, horrified and yet feeling a strong urge to giggle. The idea of the dignified Celeborn and Galadriel receiving such a treatment from her baby brother, oh dear!

“Yes, it was a meeting the Lord and Lady won’t easily forget.”

She laughed, looking at Haldir with a new curiosity. How old would he be? All she knew was that he had already been an accomplished warrior when the Balrog drove the Dwarves out of Moria, more than a thousand years ago. It was a strange notion, that he had seen the glory days of Cerin Amroth and the founding of Caras Galadhon, that he had been walking and breathing and killing and making love long before she was born. He had even met her family before she was part of it.

“Well,” she said, “let me assure you that Legolas is now much better-behaved. Although I have to say that that hair-pulling habit of his took some time to wear off. It has left me with some painful childhood memories.”

Haldir laughed at that. “Ah yes, we ellyn all did our share of hair-pulling in our younger years, before experience taught us more about how females should really be treated. But unless I am greatly mistaken, you probably made him regret it, didn’t you?”

Filanna blushed. He had assumed correctly, and she found that rather unsettling. “Let’s just say that crawling into a corner to cry wasn’t exactly my style. Have you never fought with your brothers?”

“I was already of age when they were born, so venting my frustration on them physically was never an option.” He smiled. “Of course, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t tempted now and then.”

They passed flet after flet as they climbed, until at last they reached the highest platform in the tree. It had an oval shape and was set around the entire trunk. It wasn’t linked to other telain in any way, and Filanna was at a loss as to why Haldir had brought her here, until she noticed several pigeons strutting across the talan floor. Of course! He had said he was going to dispatch a note, after all.

“Is _this_ the surprise?” she asked him.

“I admit it isn’t very thrilling,” he said, “but I thought you might find it more entertaining than brooding by the stream.” He caught her smiling, and levelled a gauging look at her face. “What amuses you, princess? Did I say something funny?”

“No, not at all.” She looked away, quickly hiding her smile behind a hand. “It’s just that... you _do_ surprise me, Marchwarden.”

“Ah.” He seemed strangely pleased with the comment.

She moved closer to the centre of the flet, curiously studying the various nest boxes that were affixed to the trunk and the branches of the tree. There were at least fifteen of them, and judging from the many muffled _roo coo_ ’s that could be heard, most of them were occupied, too.

“Are these domesticated pigeons?” she asked.

“Not really,” Haldir replied. “We do use them for mail delivery now and then, but only over short distances. And we feed them, because otherwise they would soon be ransacking the city for food and leaving their dirt all over the place. And that is not a desirable situation.”

Filanna nodded. “Who made these nest boxes?"

“You will be surprised,” he said with a smile. “Celeborn made most of them.”

“What, _Lord_ Celeborn?” Filanna’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

His smile broadened. “The very one. He is quite good with his hands, actually, and he likes to spend his free hours taking up small projects like these. He says it’s very therapeutic, and this flet was more or less his idea.” Haldir approached one of the nest boxes and peeked inside. “I wonder if... ah, here they are.”

“Who?"

“This one is inhabited by a pair with hatchlings,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder. “They are now almost a week old. Would you like to see them?”

As she approached him hesitantly, she realized that the box was above her eye level. “I’m not tall enough,” she said with a blush.

“Hm.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I had not thought about that. But the problem is easily remedied. If you’ll allow me?”

“What are you going to do?” she asked, ill at ease, as he positioned himself behind her.

“Just trust me, princess,” he murmured, and before she could protest he lifted her up like one would lift a child, with his hands under her armpits. She gave a squeak of surprise and kicked with her feet as the floor beneath them was suddenly gone. Valar! He truly was the most brazen elf she had ever met.

“Stop that,” he chided good-humoredly. “You wanted to see the birds, did you not?”

He was indeed holding her at his own eye level, and she glanced inside, her curiosity overcoming her indignation. She spotted the newborn chicks right away; there were two of them, grey and downy and huddled close together. She melted on the spot, forgetting all about her awkward position.

“Oh, they are adorable!” she said, leaning in for a closer look. “And how small their wings are. When will they start learning how to fly?”

“Soon. They leave the nest by the time they are about four weeks old,” Haldir replied. “Be careful, keep your distance. The adults can get quite aggressive when they perceive a threat to their offspring.”

After he had put her down, Haldir approached another box, looked inside and began luring a pigeon with a crust of bread he dug up from his pocket, talking softly to the bird. As she watched him like this, Filanna found it difficult to picture him leading his men in combat, fighting and felling as the trained and deadly warrior he doubtlessly was. There was blood on the hands that had lifted her, and on Orophin’s and Legolas’s as well. Nevertheless, warriors always seemed to enjoy a greater popularity with the ellith than elves with a less violent profession. She wondered why that was.

Still, Haldir did not need his uniform to draw female attention, even Filanna could see that. She had never been an expert on male beauty, but there was no denying that Haldir had an intriguing face, with strongly defined features and a prominent nose that dominated his profile. There was nothing delicate or ethereal about him, but he did have long, dark eyelashes that would make many a female green with envy. Yes, she could vividly picture her sisters putting their heads together and discussing his physical attributes in hushed tones. It was a ritual she had observed many times, and Haldir was exactly the type of ellon who might find himself at the receiving end of their flirtations. Perhaps it had actually happened in the past, and perhaps it had even led to something. The thought was not altogether pleasant.

Filanna sighed. It was so easy to rely on first impressions, but admitting one’s wrong was less so. At first sight, Haldir had struck her as a pompous philanderer with an inflated ego, and perhaps he was; but she could not continue to keep her eyes closed to the good traits he also possessed. And another thought occurred to her as she stood observing him on that flet. Like Orophin, Haldir had lost his father to Mandos and his mother to Valinor. Over the years he had had to cope with death and destruction, and he had without a doubt been hurting because of it. He was a respected and devoted defender of his people, with hopes and worries like everyone else, and although Filanna had no idea what they were, she felt guilty for ever presuming he was nothing but a rakish villain, not worthy of her respect.

“Filanna?”

Her eyes snapped towards him, and she inwardly berated herself for getting distracted again. “Yes, what?”

The corners of his mouth curled up in amusement. “Is my talking interfering with your daydream?”

She blushed, feeling embarrassed because her thoughts had been about him, and somewhat irritated because so little seemed to escape him. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

Haldir turned his attention to the pigeon and the small piece of paper he was attaching to one of its legs. The bird was flapping its wings slightly but did not seem to mind Haldir’s gentle handling. “I was asking if you would like to release him.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded shyly and held out her hand. He did likewise, and the pigeon hopped lightly from his hand onto hers, shook its feathers and appeared to be looking at her expectantly. She brought her hand closer to her chest and stroked the bird, admiring its pearly grey feathers. She had handled birds before; she had found and brought home several injured ones when she was a child, the largest of which had been a young hawk with a damaged wing. In comparison, this pigeon was a friendly little creature.

Filanna carried the bird to the edge of the flet, whispering instructions as she went. When she leaned out over the railing, he spread his wings and took flight, apparently knowing what was expected of him. She watched him until he was swallowed by the darkness.

When she turned around, she was rather startled to discover that Haldir, who had not moved from his spot, was not looking in the direction the pigeon had gone. He was looking at _her_ , perhaps had been doing so all this time, and there was something in his eyes that she had never seen there before, something that shocked her utterly. But the next moment it was gone, and he smiled at her with eyes that expressed nothing but friendliness.

 _My intentions are honourable_ , he had told her earlier, and she knew that those weren't just empty words. Instinctively, she knew that she was absolutely safe with him, that he would not let any harm come to her. But what she had just seen in his eyes told her that his thoughts were not as proper as she would like. She had seen a flash of something there, something that was alien to her but could easily be recognized for what it was. It was male and potent and even a little dangerous. And the most unsettling part of it was: it was directed at _her._

Subconsciously, she took a step in the direction of the stairs. “Perhaps we should go back now,” she said, and although she had intended for it to be a casual proposal, to her own ears it sounded like a plea.

xxx

Filanna was talkative on the way down from the flet. Although she usually turned within herself when she was nervous, this time she felt she had to keep the conversation going, had to act casual and pretend she hadn't noticed his lecherous gaze on her earlier. So she talked and talked and asked Haldir questions, forcing herself to pay attention to his answers. Whether he noticed her inner turbulence she could not tell, but even if he did, he probably wouldn’t know what had caused it. Which was good.

She was angry with herself for being so foolish. And she was angry with him for not being more careful. She could not change the way he thought about her, but keeping his unseemly thoughts to himself was the least he could do, wasn’t it? She had never wanted to get that little peek into his thoughts, but she had had it all the same, and she did not know if she could bear to be around someone who looked at her and thought of her that way, regardless of how nice or charming or trustworthy he was. It was more her fault than it was his.

Filanna sighed. _My sisters must never find out that I had the chance to sleep with the Marchwarden and turned it down. I would never hear the end of their mockery. And they would be right to mock me, for they have a fool for a sister._

In the meantime, Haldir was answering a question she had asked him earlier.

“... often have patrol duty together,” he told her, “so even if we do not get to pay many house visits, my brothers and I see each other frequently enough. Days at the border can be very long and uneventful, and we simply have to find ways to entertain ourselves lest we get bored out of our minds. We are condemned to each other’s company there, and we try to make the best of it.”

Filanna nodded. She had a vague idea of what males did and talked about when there weren’t any females near. Legolas had spoken to her about it, or rather hinted at it. She suspected that tact had kept him from telling her everything.

She just opened her mouth to ask something else when an unexpected thing happened. A small elven boy, who came from the opposite direction and seemed to be in a great hurry, was about to run past them, but Haldir, much to Filanna’s surprise, took a swift step to the side and intercepted him.

“Hold it right there!” he said as he effortlessly scooped the boy up from the floor. “Just where do you think you’re off to?”

“Let me go!” the lad demanded, laughing and kicking his legs as if he was still running. He had unruly hair that was almost white, and bright grey eyes.

“Not before you have explained to me why you are still up at this hour,” Haldir said, not without amusement. “It is far past your bedtime. Where is your mother?”

“At home. Please, put me down. I have something very important and urgent to do.”

“I see. And what exactly would that be, this very urgent thing?” Haldir teased the elfling.

“The Lady Galadriel herself has sent me on an errand!” the boy declared proudly, puffing up his chest. “I am to find Princess Filanna of Mirkwood and bring her to the hall. The Lady wishes to speak with her.”

“That is a great responsibility indeed. And do you know what the princess looks like?”

“Uh, no,” the boy admitted. “But the Lady gave me directions to her talan.”

“And if you don’t find her at home, what then?” Haldir’s amusement was increasing by the second. “She could be out with one of her admirers, to name just one possibility.”

The boy looked suddenly defeated. Clearly that thought hadn’t occurred to him at all. “I... don’t know.”

Haldir decided to take pity on the elfling. “Well, not to worry, little one. This beautiful lady here happens to be the princess you’re looking for, so you have already accomplished the first part of your mission.”

The child looked at Filanna with an expression of utter delight, but she was staring at Haldir incredulously. This couldn’t be what it seemed. It was impossible. And yet...

Haldir, of course, saw the look in her eyes and chuckled as he lowered the boy to the ground. “Don’t look at me like that, princess,” he said, switching to the Westron language for the occasion. “He’s not mine.”

“Are you really Princess Filanna?” the child asked, looking up at her.

She tore her gaze away from Haldir to look the young elf in the eye. “Yes, I am.”

“I am Drauglan,” he said, smiling happily. “I want to become a sentinel when I grow up!”

Taken aback by the spontaneous announcement, Filanna said, “Oh, well, that is... wonderful.”

Haldir snorted disdainfully. “A sentinel, indeed. He will become a warden, mark my words.”

Drauglan laughed. “Will not, will not! You are just jealous because you aren’t a sentinel yourself, Haldir.”

“That must be it,” Haldir said with a wink at Filanna. He then folded his arms and said to the lad, “Well? Don’t stand there wasting time with small talk, Drauglan. A good sentinel never lets the Lady wait.”

His words had instant effect, because all of a sudden Drauglan was in a hurry again. With the spontaneity of a child, he grabbed her hand and began to pull her in the direction he had come from. Filanna, too stunned to resist, let herself be guided like a meek pony, glancing over her shoulder at Haldir, who was grinning as he sauntered a few steps behind.

“Next time, be sure to ask a lady for her permission before you drag her someplace, Drauglan,” he said. “That is one important lesson you have to learn before you grow up. It will spare you at least a few boxes on the ear.”

To Filanna he said, “Well, princess, since I appear to have become superfluous, I will part from you for now. Thank you for the pleasure of your company, and good night.”

Before she could protest, or even thank him in return, he turned and vanished into the darkness. Dumbly she stared after him. Valar, this truly was an evening full of surprises and unexpected twists. She turned her attention to the boy, who was walking one step ahead and still holding her hand, and it occurred to her that he was already her third male escort this evening. It was a rather amusing thought.

“How old are you, Drauglan?” she asked him. She was unused to dealing with children, but this seemed like a good first question to open a conversation with one.

“Almost five-and-thirty,” he replied proudly, and before she could react, he went on to ask a question of his own. “I just met the Mirkwood King in the great hall. Is he your father?”

Filanna furrowed her brow. Was her father still visiting with the Lady? What had those two been talking about all this time? “Yes, he is."

“Is your mother a queen? Where is she?”

“My mother is at home, in Mirkwood, and yes, she is a queen.”

“Is she pretty like you?”

She raised her eyebrows, the question amusing her. “Much prettier.”

“Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“Three of each. Do you have siblings too?”

“No.” As he skipped next to her, still holding her hand, she suddenly felt as if she was taking a walk with a little brother, rather than being ‘escorted’ by a sentinel-to-be. “I am an only child.”

“Well, that could still change,” she said, for she thought she perceived a hint of regret in his voice. “My eldest brother is thousands of years older than I.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Nana always says she’ll never remarry.”

“Remarry?” Filanna said cautiously. “What happened to your father, then?”

“He died when I was a babe.” The child’s matter-of-fact tone surprised her, as did the ease with which he jumped to the next subject. “Why do you have a flower behind your ear?”

“Oh.” Unconsciously she reached up to touch the flower. She had actually forgotten it was there. “It was a gift,” she said evasively.

“From Haldir?”

Filanna bit on the insides of her cheeks. Valar, the elfling was observant.

“From Haldir, yes.”

“Is he in love with you then?”

The unexpected question stunned her for a few moments, but then she started to laugh. “No, Drauglan, Haldir is definitely not in love with me.”

“Are you in love with _him_?”

“No. Why are you asking all these questions?”

“I am only curious,” Drauglan said, before seamlessly moving on to the next question. “Are you friends, then?”

“We are acquainted,” Filanna replied, hoping that the answer would satisfy him. “How do you know Haldir, anyway?”

“He is a friend of my Nana’s,” Drauglan replied. “He visits us sometimes.” The lad sounded actually smug. Being acquainted with the Marchwarden was probably something he boasted about to his friends.

“I see.” Filanna already regretted the question. Whom Haldir knew and how well he knew them wasn’t something she was particularly interested in. And she was still puzzled as to why Galadriel had summoned her. She really had no idea what the Lady of Light would want to discuss with her, and for some reason, she felt a bit apprehensive about it.

Drauglan had already switched to yet another topic, and for a few minutes they talked about this and that until they reached the main hall, where a sentinel was standing guard.

“Look, Eldamir,” Drauglan enthused, “I brought the princess!”

“Very well done, Drauglan,” the sentinel said with a smile, as he gently tugged one of the elfling's braids. “And so quickly, too. You will make an excellent sentinel one day.” And to Filanna he said, “The Lady awaits you, Your Highness.”

“Goodbye, Drauglan,” Filanna said to the boy before she went inside. “Thank you for being such a good escort.”

He gave her a beaming smile and a little wave in response. “Goodbye!”

After she had entered the hall, another sentinel directed her to one of the smaller chambers in the back, an intimate and cozy space, if not a little disorderly due to the many books and documents piled up everywhere. Galadriel and Thranduil, who were seated in armchairs, turned their faces to the door when she entered.

“You sent for me, my lady?”

“I did, indeed.” Galadriel smiled at her and indicated an empty chair. “Please sit, my dear. I take it that my messenger has found you quickly?”

“Yes, my lady.” Filanna didn’t bother to explain that had it not been for Haldir, Drauglan would have had much more difficulty carrying out her errand. She approached the two elven rulers, trying to signal her father with her eyes, but he only smiled and nodded encouragingly. This made her even more suspicious.

She cautiously sat down on the edge of the chair, keeping a straight pose. Being in one room with Galadriel, the very picture of femininity and elegance, always made her more conscious of her own lack of grace. Her unease increased when Galadriel didn’t speak immediately, but simply gazed at her for a few long, silent moments, her smile never fading. Filanna had to make a real effort not to lower her eyes.

“Please tell me, Filanna,” Galadriel began kindly, “are you enjoying your stay in Lórien so far?”

Filanna shifted ever so slightly in her chair. _Careful now. The Lady will know it if you lie._

“I enjoy it more than I had expected, my lady,” she said truthfully. “It is a truly beautiful place and I have not been bored.”

“I am pleased to hear that.” Galadriel nodded approvingly. “Now, I am sure you would like to know why I called you here tonight.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Well.” Galadriel interlaced her fingers. Nenya, the Ring of Water with one diamond set into it, sparkled on one of them. “It is because I wish to offer you the opportunity to stay in Lórien indefinitely. How would you like that, Filanna?”

Filanna suddenly sat rigid, fear and shock gripping her heart. This was a scenario she hadn’t even considered! Gracious Valar, it could not be true!

“W-what?” she stuttered.

“Celeborn and I have discussed it,” Galadriel continued, “and we are agreed that you should have more than two weeks to become acquainted with Lórien and the Galadhrim. That is why we would like to ask you to be our guest for an extended period of time. We both hope that you will accept.”

“But...” Filanna’s eyes darted to her father, seeking help. He knew how badly she wanted to go home; he wouldn’t actually expect her to stay behind, would he?

Thranduil must have seen the plea in her eyes, for he said gently, “I approve of this plan, Filanna. Two weeks is a short time, and Lórien has more to offer than what you have seen so far. Take this opportunity. You will not regret it.”

Filanna felt like everything came crashing down around her. If her father was not on her side in this, then all was hopeless. Still, she wanted to rush over to him, fling her arms around his neck and beg him not to let this happen; and if they had been alone, perhaps she would have done it. But Galadriel was watching, and Filanna had too much pride to display such childish behaviour in front of the Lady of Light.

“Do you really want me to do this, Ada?” she asked softly.

“What I want does not matter,” he replied. “You are an adult and you can decide for yourself. But yes, I _advise_ you to accept Galadriel’s offer.”

His eyes rested on her calmly, and she knew she was defeated. There was no real reason why she should return to Mirkwood immediately, she had no excuse, and any elf with a little bit of sense would seize the opportunity with both hands. Her father knew that she was afraid, but in his eyes she could see the hope that she would face that fear, not run away from it. And she could not disappoint him. She never could.

Still, she could not bring herself to say the word that would seal her fate. She looked at her hands without seeing anything. _For Varda’s sake, don’t act so childishly! Just look Galadriel in the eye and tell her you gratefully accept the offer._

In the end Galadriel, who had been watching Filanna attentively, broke the silence. “Thranduil,” she said, “may I speak with Filanna privately for a moment?”

“Of course.” The King rose from his chair and left, briefly smoothing a hand over Filanna’s head as he passed her. The gesture almost caused her to burst into tears.

“You must think me so ungrateful,” Filanna said softly after the door clicked shut.

“Not at all, dear child.” Galadriel smiled kindly. “I am only wondering why the idea of staying here causes you such distress. Do you not think you could be happy here?”

Filanna shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just... I don’t know anyone in Lórien. I don’t have any friends or family here. I’m afraid I would be lonely.”

Galadriel shook her head. “Lonely? That is not possible, my dear. You would meet people and make friends soon enough, I assure you.”

“How can you be so sure?” Filanna asked unhappily.

“Haven’t you already befriended one Galadhel?”

“Do you mean Orophin?” Filanna frowned slightly. “He is not a friend.”

“Isn’t he?” Galadriel smiled again. “He likes you, doesn’t he?”

Filanna was confused. “I don’t know, my lady. Perhaps he does, but he never said he wanted to be friends with me.”

“Should the sentiment be expressed in words for you to know it to be true?”

“Well, it would certainly help,” Filanna muttered.

“Do you want him to be your friend?”

Filanna hesitated. “Yes, I like him.”

“Then perhaps you should consider telling him that. His reaction might surprise you.” Galadriel leaned in closer. “What are you afraid of, Filanna?”

“I don’t know.” Filanna stared hard at the floor. “That he will make fun of me, laugh at me. In my face or behind my back.”

“Do you truly believe Orophin is the kind of elf who would do that?”

Filanna shook her head slowly, but without much conviction.

“You can trust Orophin, Filanna,” Galadriel said gently. “And there are more elves like he in Caras Galadhon, elves who would like to welcome you into their lives. You are worth knowing, Filanna. If you believe that, you will soon find that everything is much easier. A little faith in yourself and the people around you can make a great difference.”

Filanna’s lip was starting to tremble. “Do you really think so?”

“I am sure of it.” Galadriel smiled again. “Now tell me, my dear, what would you like to do?”

“Do?” Filanna swallowed a few times, trying to get her normal voice back. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if you are to stay here, you should have something to occupy yourself with, don’t you agree? I think I have an idea of what the life of a princess entails, and what the limitations are. You wouldn’t have those limitations here. In fact, I think it would be a very good idea if you took part in the daily routine here in Caras Galadhon as an average civilian, and earned your own keep.”

“Really?” Filanna allowed herself to ponder the possibilities for a moment. “You mean that no one would try and stop me from doing things a princess isn’t supposed to do? Would I be allowed to do my own laundry and make my own bed and... and perhaps even go out for my own groceries?”

Galadriel laughed warmly. “Yes, that would all be your own responsibility. Now, if you could choose an occupation, any occupation at all, what would it be?”

Filanna hesitated. Could she say it?

“Surely there is something that fits your interests and your skills,” Galadriel encouraged. “You can tell me, Filanna. I won’t laugh at you.”

“Well...” Filanna blushed. “I am very fond of horses, my lady. I love riding and just being around them. I would like... I would _really_ like to make myself useful that way. With grooming and feeding and cleaning, I mean.” She glanced up, almost certain that she would see doubt on Galadriel’s face. A princess working as a stable maid-- the idea alone was ludicrous.

But Galadriel sat up, looking pleased. “Excellent! They can always use an extra pair of hands at the stables. I will make inquiries and arrange for you to start the day after your father and brother’s departure.”

Filanna’s heart made a wild somersault. She hardly dared to believe it. This nightmare had just turned into one of her favourite daydreams!

“I would like to make another suggestion,” Galadriel’s voice interrupted her happy thoughts. “It has come to my ears that you are an archer of great talent. You could put that expertise to good use by teaching children. Would you like that?”

Filanna’s growing optimism evaporated abruptly. “Teaching?” she repeated incredulously. “Me, my lady? A teacher?”

“Yes, why not?”

“Well, because... because I am not good with children at all.” Filanna sombered. “I have never taught anyone anything. And I practise archery for pleasure only. I’ve never shot at anything that moved!”

“That is of no importance. You would be teaching the basics to young children. The more advanced techniques don't come into play until much later.”

“But I... I don’t think I would be a good teacher, my lady,” Filanna objected weakly. “I’m not even sure those children would listen to me.”

"You could start with just one pupil,” Galadriel said, “and see how it pleases you.” After a brief silence, she added in a distinctly suggestive tone, “Drauglan has been wanting to start his lessons for a while now. He is the proper age.”

When this bit of information sank in, Filanna almost laughed. Oh, she was cunning, the Lady! Now she understood why Galadriel had sent that adorable child to fetch her, rather than one of the sentinels.

“May I have some time to think about it?” she asked.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want you to accept the task only because I am proposing it. Do it only if you really want to.”

Filanna nodded, relieved that Galadriel left the decision to her. And at that moment she realized that even though nothing had been said aloud, she had already accepted Galadriel’s offer. But what did it matter? There were no other options, not really. And so it was with mixed feelings that she said goodbye to Galadriel and made to leave the room.

As she reached the door, a thought occurred to her and she turned around. “My lady?”

“Yes, Filanna?”

“Who told you about my penchant for archery? Was it my father?"

Galadriel joined her hands in her lap. “No, it wasn’t your father. It was Haldir.”

“Haldir?” Filanna echoed weakly. Hearing the name in this context gave her a little shock. Haldir had spoken with Galadriel... about _her._

“Indeed.” Galadriel smiled. “Actually, that was when the idea that we should do something with your talent first occurred to me. I think you managed to impress our Marchwarden, young one, and that is not an easy thing to do.”

Filanna blushed, and for a moment she toyed with the idea of asking Galadriel what exactly Haldir had said about her. It was tempting, but in the end she decided she was better left in the dark.

“Oh,” was all she said. “Good night, my lady.”

“One more thing, Filanna.”

Filanna halted once more, looking at the Lady questioningly.

“About Haldir.” Galadriel’s eyes held Filanna’s from across the room. “He is more like you than you might think, my dear.”

“My lady?”

“Orophin is an open book; he is outgoing and very easy to like. Haldir on the other hand I would liken to a diary with a lock on it. One can see the cover, but the contents remain hidden, a secret. In that respect, the two of you have much in common, and one should not judge either of you by the cover alone. Remember that. Perhaps in time, you will see that it is the truth.” After having spoken these mysterious words, Galadriel smiled again. “Good night, Filanna.”

xxx

Upon returning to her talan a little later, Filanna accidentally caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and was reminded once again of the flower that was still tucked behind her ear. She hadn’t even realized it had been there the entire time while she spoke with Galadriel.

She took it and twirled it between her fingers absent-mindedly. What a strange, eventful evening this had become! Her longing for home had not diminished, but she simply would have to make the best of her time in Lórien. The prospect of working in the stables was something to look forward to, at least. Horses were so much easier to be around than people of her own kind. But she might take a leap of faith and agree to teach Drauglan. He seemed sweet and eager to learn; it might be interesting to see if she really could teach him something.

In truth, her main concern was Haldir. At the moment she had no idea what to do with him or what to expect, and Galadriel's enigmatic words had only added to her confusion. She and Haldir, similar? Could he have uncertainties and doubts of his own, hidden deep down inside? If he did, he sure managed to hide it well.

Filanna sighed. Truth was, she was too mentally scattered right now to be thinking about Haldir at all. He confused her too much; whenever she tried to analyze him, her thoughts ended up in a big, messy knot without a beginning or an end. And the more she found out about him, the more complicated and tangled that knot became. She looked at the flower once more, unsure what to do with it. In a fleeting moment, she considered throwing it out the window, but in the end she found herself searching her talan for something that could serve as a vase. After all, she reasoned with just a little irony, this would be her home for a long time to come. She might as well start making it cozy.

She found a glass, filled it with water and put it, flower and all, on the nightstand beside her bed. She immediately thought the better of it and moved it further away, to the table. She then sat down on the bed and stared at the flower without really seeing it. Her mind was filled with a million thoughts and yet felt strangely blank. She was torn between excitement and fear, and she felt tired and restless at the same time.

One thing was clear at least: sleep would be a long time coming that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ellyn = plural form of ellon, male elf (S)  
> Nana = mother, mommy (S)


	7. First Time For Everything

Filanna woke up with the caress of the sun’s first rays on her cheek. It promised to be another fair day in Lórien, but instead of leaping out of bed to throw open the curtains, as she normally would have done, she felt more inclined to pull the covers over her head and stay in bed until the day was over. Her father and brother would leave for Mirkwood that morning, and although she had had some time to get used to the idea, seeing them actually ride away without her was not something she was looking forward to. She hoped from the bottom of her heart that she would succeed in holding herself together when the moment for goodbyes arrived, for the idea of bursting into tears in front of a crowd of Geledhil did not appeal to her at all. Such childish behaviour would not win her the esteem and respect of the Galadhrim, and if she wanted to make her time in Caras Galadhon bearable, she couldn’t afford to make a bad start.

After a few minutes of inner dialogue, Filanna forced herself to get out of bed and start the daily routine of washing, getting dressed and doing her hair. She spent an unusually long time in front of the mirror, struggling to tame the locks that kept escaping from her braid. She had washed her hair after the party last night and it had still been damp when she went to sleep; as a result, it was now tangled in numerous places and the shorter strands on either side of her face were curling stubbornly in all the wrong directions. Muttering curses under her breath, she tried to make the best of it with water and vigorous combing. No, this was obviously not going to be a good day.

The night before, there had been a celebration in honour of the Mirkwood elves, a farewell party this time. Filanna, who had never been a very enthusiastic reveller to begin with, had found herself dragging her feet to this particular event, not seeing the point of celebrating something she personally regretted so much. But she had sat out many long, tedious balls and banquets in her life, and years of experience had taught her to camouflage her chagrin with polite smiles, a skill that definitely came in handy in situations like these.

But the night had a few surprises in store. Not long after she had arrived at the party scene, she was approached by a lovely silver-haired elleth she had never seen before. The elleth was clad in a simple but flattering aquamarine dress and she wore her hair in such an elegant fashion that Filanna suddenly felt even more out of place than she had before. It was hard, if not impossible, to keep feeling comfortable in tunics and leggings when all those Lórien females looked so lovely and feminine in their gowns.

“Princess Filanna?” the elleth addressed her somewhat hesitantly.

“Yes?” Filanna, who had been leaning against the sturdy trunk of a mallorn tree with one shoulder as she observed the dancing couples in the middle of the clearing, stood up straight, wondering what this could be about.

The strange elleth gave a small curtsey and smiled at her. “Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Inis, Drauglan’s mother. I understand that you are going to teach my son archery.”

“Oh.” Filanna looked at Inis more closely, surprised that this delicate, young-looking elleth was her future pupil’s cherished Nana. “Yes, I am.”

She had given the matter of archery lessons long consideration, but in the end it had been Orophin who persuaded her to do it. He waved away all her objections, and when she argued that she had no previous teaching experience he merely said that there had to be a first time for everything. His apparently genuine faith in her abilities had tipped the scales eventually, and once her mind was made up, she had paid Galadriel a visit straight away, fearing that she would lose her courage if she waited too long. The Lady had been very pleased with her decision, and she had expressed her delight openly, also speaking words of reassurance.

Not a day had gone by since then that Filanna hadn't thought of her first lesson with some trepidation. That she would meet Drauglan’s mother at some point seemed only logical, but she hadn’t expected to stand face to face with the elleth in question so soon. Inis was shorter in height than she, but something in her eyes and in her bearing told Filanna that this elleth was older and far more experienced at life.

“I wanted to thank you,” Inis continued. “I heard that my son was going to be taught by a princess of Mirkwood, but I took it for just another rumor until the Lady Galadriel herself confirmed it. It is a great honour--”

“No, please,” Filanna said quickly. “I am new to this, so kindly save your gratitude until I have earned it. And in all probability, it will only be for a couple of months.”

“Well,” Inis said with a smile, “Drauglan is very excited about starting his lessons. He talks about nothing else.”

This pleased Filanna more than she would have expected. “Truly?”

Inis nodded. “He will obviously be needing a bow and some other gear, as he subtly reminds me at least twenty times a day, but I am not sure what to get him. Actually I was hoping you could give me some advice in this. Will a second-hand bow suffice for now, or should I have one made for him? I don’t know what would be best.” Her blue eyes looked at Filanna questioningly.

“Er, well, I am not sure,” Filanna said, rather taken aback by the inquiry. “I would say that a new bow would probably be a waste in this case, as he will have grown out of it in a few years. But to tell you honestly, I don’t know how this is arranged here. I would have to ask Orophin.”

Inis nodded again. “And is there anything else I should know, or pay particular attention to when getting him his equipment?” She gave an apologetic little laugh. “As you have probably noticed, I know little about these things, and I don’t want to saddle my son with the wrong gear. So any tip you can give me would be very welcome.”

“Well... I...” Filanna hesitated. She was not accustomed to being asked for advice. “Nothing that I can explain very articulately, I’m afraid. But if you would find it helpful, I would be happy to accompany you and offer advice, if I can.”

“Would you really?” Inis looked relieved. “I would be most grateful, Your Highness.”

Filanna nearly choked on her wine when Inis addressed her in such a formal fashion. Between coughs, she managed to ask a somewhat startled-looking Inis to call her by her name.

“Of course, if that is what you prefer,” Inis said. “Shall I get you some water?”

“No, I am fine,” said Filanna, who was recovering her breath. “And yes, I prefer it greatly.”

“Well, Filanna, I would truly appreciate your help,” Inis said. “Drauglan has no father who can do this kind of thing with him. I assume you know this?”

“Yes, Drauglan told me,” Filanna said cautiously. “I was sorry to hear about your loss.”

“It seems to be the story of my life,” Inis said with a little smile. “My mother always said I must have been the youngest bride in the history of Caras Galadhon; then I became the youngest mother and the youngest widow. Not that I would anything differently given the chance. Drauglan is all worth it.” She paused. “Anyway, I suppose I could have asked Haldir or another of my male friends to come with me, but I was hesitant to do so. This is a better solution.”

Filanna frowned slightly, not seeing the logic behind the remark. “Excuse me, but why is that?”

Inis laughed softly. “This may sound strange, but I think that if I called Haldir over every time I need a male opinion on something, I would be giving off the wrong signals to my son. He idolizes the Marchwarden, you see, and you know how children are. It would be all too easy for him to start seeing things that aren’t there. It wouldn’t be fair to him.” She smiled. “At the moment he has dozens of surrogate fathers. The sentinels are his favourites, and Haldir of course. And I am fine with that. They say a boy needs a good male role model as he grows up, and mine has that in abundance.”

Filanna nodded slowly, giving the young mother a smile. “That does not sound so strange to me.”

“Good evening, ladies. Am I being gossiped about?”

Filanna nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Haldir’s voice so unexpectedly. By all the Valar, did that elf possess magical powers of some sort? It would certainly explain his tendency to appear anywhere at any given moment, preferably at times when his presence was least desired. She had not seen him approach but there he stood in that characteristic pose, hands behind his back, and with that equally characteristic smile on his lips. With eyes that moved on their own account, she gave him an involuntary once-over. He was wearing a tunic she hadn’t seen before, a cobalt blue one with silver clasps at the front. It was a handsome piece of clothing, obviously tailored with skill, and it flattered him. In fact, he looked outrageously attractive tonight, even more so than usual.

“Haldir!” Inis laughed. “It is not very polite to eavesdrop.”

“No, but it can be useful at times.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry, Inis, you ladies can keep your secrets. I just thought I heard my name, that is all.”

“It is possible that you did,” Inis said teasingly. “But in all seriousness, your arrival is most opportune. Filanna and I require some information you might be able to provide.”

“I am intrigued. Please, elaborate.”

She recapitulated the conversation for him and he nodded. “There is a talan where used bows are kept for this particular purpose,” he told her when she had finished explaining the situation. “They come in all sorts and sizes and are free for use. I never advise parents to give their children new bows when they are just starting out; elflings grow fast at Drauglan’s age and I predict that he will have outgrown his first bow in less than three years.”

“Filanna said the same thing,” Inis said, and she added by way of explanation, “She is the one who will be teaching him.”

Haldir shifted his gaze to Filanna, his expression one of unconcealed surprise. “Truly?”

“Did you not know?” Filanna asked incredulously. “To most of Caras Galadhon it seems to be old news already.”

“I was on an errand for Lord Celeborn the past few days, from which I have returned only this morning,” he explained. “So forgive me if I am not entirely in touch with all the recent events.” His eyes rested on her attentively, but what he was thinking remained hidden from her as usual. Was he pleased? Skeptical? There was no way to tell.

“Well? What do you think?” she prodded, growing nervous when he wouldn’t make further comments. Why his opinion should matter to her she did not know, but anything was better than that enigmatic silence.

“I think...” He gave a slow smile. “I think that Drauglan is a very lucky elfling indeed. I wish any of _my_ former instructors would have been half as lovely as you.”

Filanna flushed. Oh, that incorrigible flirt was teasing her again! And judging from the sparkle in his eyes he was enjoying it greatly. She lowered her eyes, not wanting him to see how easily he could confuse her with those flirty remarks and double entendres. She should be used to it by now, but his forwardness still took her by surprise every time, discomfiting her to such a degree that the ability to form cohesive sentences left her completely.

“I think it is a very good idea,” he said kindly. “I was just teasing you, princess.”

“Aren’t you always?” she retorted.

“Often, but not always,” he admitted with a smile.

“Did you just get here, Haldir?” inquired Inis, who seemed somewhat amused by the exchange.

“Yes, I did. And as a matter of fact...” He gave a small, courteous bow, his eyes never leaving Filanna’s. “I was hoping the princess would grant me the honour and the pleasure of a dance.”

“A... dance?”

He nodded and held out his hand, palm up. She stared at it, perplexed that he would ask her this, and even more shocked to find herself wishing she could accept. He had already proven himself a talented dancer, and to her shame she felt actually flattered that he asked her for the first dance of the night. But in spite of this, and in spite of the fact that she did enjoy the occasional dance, she simply couldn’t do it. Not with him.

“I... er... I...” She looked up at him, wondering frantically how she was going to decline the offer graciously. “I thank you for the offer, but regrettably I must refuse. I, er, am an appallingly bad dancer, and even my best effort will put you to shame.”

He lifted his eyebrows, clearly having difficulty believing this.

“And I do not enjoy dancing very much anyway,” she continued lamely. “So do yourself a favour, Marchwarden, and ask another elleth, one who will not cause you embarrassment.” With a forced smile, she tried to disguise the inexplicable guilt she suddenly felt.

“Very well.” He lowered his hand. “How about you then, Inis?”

“You know I don’t gladly turn you down, Haldir,” she said with a smile, “but I won’t partake in the revelry tonight. I came down here only because I wanted to make Filanna’s acquaintance, and we are still in the middle of that.”

“In that case, forgive me the intrusion.” He bowed gallantly, seemingly unfazed by the double rejection. “I will leave you to it, ladies. Good night.” And with that, he turned and disappeared into the growing masses of partying elves, doubtlessly to find one of the many ellith who would be more than happy to dance the night away in his arms.

“Well, Filanna,” Inis said conversationally, as if there had been no interruption at all, “if it is not inappropriate of me to ask, why don’t you tell me something about yourself? Why did you choose to stay in Lórien?”

 _I didn’t_ , Filanna almost blurted out. _It was decided for me._ But she swallowed the words before they came out, because they would suggest a bitterness she didn’t feel at all, at least not anymore. And it wasn’t even entirely true; no one had forced her to stay in Lórien, after all. In the end it had been her own choice.

“It was originally the Lady’s idea,” she told Inis. “It is the first time I am away from Mirkwood and Lórien has so much to offer that two weeks is really too short a time. Therefore Celeborn and Galadriel invited me kindly to extend my visit.”

“That sounds like a wonderful opportunity indeed,” Inis said earnestly. “I have never been able to visit any of the other elven realms and see the world outside of Lórien, but I hope that I will have my chance one day, when Drauglan is grown and the roads are safer. You are so privileged, Filanna.” She said it without a trace of envy.

“I am sure that your wish will be granted one day," Filanna told her.

The two of them continued to converse for more than an hour. Filanna soon found out that Inis’s late husband, Maenion, had been a warden who died in combat, and that Inis made her living with weaving and sewing. She enjoyed the craft, and most of the work could be done at home, which meant that she could be with her son often. Filanna could not help but admire the way this young mother had arranged her life around her son and devoted it to his upbringing. A greater contrast with her own comfortable and sheltered little life was hardly possible.

In the end, Inis said it was time for her to head back home. “I don’t like leaving Drauglan alone for too long,” she explained. “He is asleep, but I don’t want him to be alone should he wake up. It was a pleasure talking to you, Filanna.”

“Likewise,” Filanna said truthfully. “My offer to help you with Drauglan's gear still stands, by the way.”

“And I will remember it,” Inis said with a smile. “For now, good night.”

For Filanna, the party lapsed back into boringness after Inis’s departure. Orophin, to her regret, didn’t seem to be present, and she spent most of her time observing the dancers, her father and brother among them. They seemed to be having a wonderful time, and Thranduil - who had shrugged off his impractical velvet mantle earlier that evening - caused great merriment among the revellers when he practically snatched Galadriel away from her husband’s side and pulled her to the dance floor.

“Excuse me, Thranduil,” Celeborn protested in good humor, “but where are you going with my wife?”

“Do not fret, Celeborn,” Thranduil replied, grinning at the Lord of the Galadhrim as he placed his right hand on the small of Galadriel’s back and drew her close for the dance. “Your lovely wife will be returned to you soon, and safely.”

“Milords, please,” Galadriel said coquettishly, putting one of her slender-fingered hands on the King’s broad shoulder. “I am not an object that can be passed back and forth at will.” But from the way she was smiling Filanna could tell that the Lady wasn’t the least bit offended by the amiable rivalry between the two males. Filanna felt the corners of her mouth lift; there was no denying that her father could be a bit of a flirt sometimes, but since the female on the receiving end of his flirting was normally her mother, she had stopped noticing it. She did not know how long her father had known the ruling pair of Lórien, but the warmth between them suggested a long friendship.

Within moments, Thranduil and Galadriel were engaged in an exhilarating, upbeat dance. The floor was cleared for them spontaneously, and the revellers watched their lady and the Mirkwood King from the sidelines, laughing and clapping to the music. The musicians were quick to react to what was happening, and to the amusement of all they increased the tempo gradually, thus forcing the two to dance ever faster and faster. Filanna shook her head in amused disapproval as she watched. Her father was stealing the show as usual and enjoying it a little too much, but there was no denying that their performance was a spectacle worth watching. She enjoyed seeing her Ada so uninhibited, his hair whipping about him in an unkingly manner, and the sight of Galadriel behaving like an undignified, giggly elleth was a rare one indeed.

When the dance ended, however, Filanna was presented with a dilemma.

“Your turn, daughter!” Thranduil called to her, making his way through the crowd as the dance floor started to fill again. “Come and dance with your old father.”

Filanna smiled and almost took his proffered hand in acceptance, but then she remembered Haldir and what she had said to him earlier. What kind of message would she be sending if she appeared on the dance floor with her father shortly after having told Haldir that she didn’t enjoy the activity and was generally bad at it? Well, the conclusion could be easily drawn, and Haldir might take offense, or even feel hurt. This she did not want to happen. She had felt bad enough about turning him down.

“Well?” Thranduil smiled, still holding out his hand. “I promise I won’t disgrace you.”

“I’m sorry, Ada.” She looked up at him helplessly, her heart sinking with guilt. She couldn’t explain this to him, not if she wanted to keep Haldir’s name from being mentioned. “Normally I would love to, but I don’t really feel like dancing tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Well, er...” She looked at the ground unhappily. For someone who hated lying, she sure was doing an awful lot of it tonight, and she was running out of excuses, too. “This wine doesn’t really agree with me, I think. I feel a bit queasy.”

He reached out and brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, his eyes studying her face. “You do look a little pale,” he observed. “Perhaps you should return to your talan then, Fila-nîn, and settle your stomach with a cup of camomile tea.”

His concern had made her feel even worse about her lie. “Yes, perhaps I should,” she mumbled.

Filanna frowned at her reflection in the mirror as she struggled with the unmanageable frizzy mass that was her hair. Yes, a strange ending of the party it had been, and she regretted it still. If she had handled the situation with Haldir like an adult, she would have been able to dance with her father and brother on their last night in Lórien. Those silly lies had only served to make things unnecessarily complicated. On the other hand, her feigned queasiness had been a good excuse to call it a night, and not having to see which elleth Haldir took home with him this time was, well, a not unwelcome bonus.

Filanna gave up on her coiffure with a sigh. She would be late for breakfast if she didn’t make haste, the last breakfast with her father and brother and also the last she would be having at the Lord and Lady’s table, because as of tomorrow, she would be responsible for her own meals.

Upon her arrival she was greeted very kindly by Celeborn and Galadriel, as always, and Galadriel kindly inquired whether she was feeling better this morning. Oh dear, had that father of hers been spreading the word? She blushed and told Galadriel that yes, she felt excellent, praying that the Lady couldn’t see inside her mind.

The moment of departure came all too soon for Filanna. A small gathering of Lórien officials came to see the Mirkwood party off at the gates, and of course the Lord and Lady were also there to wish the Mirkwoodians a safe journey home. Thranduil and Rínion exchanged warm and heartfelt goodbyes with them while Filanna stood by and watched, feeling small and dejected.

Rínion was the first to turn away from the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim and hold out his arms to her. She bit on her wobbly lower lip and hugged him tightly, not protesting when his strong arms locked around her waist and lifted her off the ground as though she weighed nothing.

“Enjoy your stay with the Galadhrim, sister.” His voice had a smile in it. “But do be gentle with the poor fellows, and try not to break any hearts.”

She snorted sarcastically. “I wasn’t planning to do anything of the sort.”

He grinned as he put her down. “Do not underestimate the power of our family charm, Filanna dear. Take it from your elder-- elves are drawn to us like moths to a flame. It’s a fate we were born to bear.”

“You are a braggart, brother,” she said with a laugh, “and a delusional one at that.” Then again, Rínion’s claims were not entirely unfounded, for her eldest brother left behind a trail of sighing, starry-eyed females wherever he went. It was a miracle that he wasn’t more arrogant than he was, really. But the idea that she could wreak similar havoc among the Lórien males was ludicrous, and undesirable at that. She had Haldir’s attentions to deal with and that was more than enough.

Her father was next, and she gave him a long embrace, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. “Give my love to Naneth,” she instructed in a small voice.

“I will, Fila-nîn,” he said, patting her back reassuringly. “Keep in mind that Celeborn and Galadriel will be here for you, if you need them. And enjoy yourself, because if you don’t, I fear your mother will be very cross with me for leaving you behind in this place.”

She chuckled. “Not to worry, Ada. For your sake as well as my own, I plan to have a wonderful time.”

He kissed her forehead and said, “Now look, I think someone is here to see you, muin-iell.”

Following his gaze, she looked over her shoulder in confusion and her eyes met those of a tall, silver-haired elf standing a small distance away.

“Orophin!” She quickly disentangled herself from her father’s arms, blushing hotly. She was happy to see him, but she wished he hadn’t seen her clinging to her father’s robe like a toddler.

“Good day.” Orophin bowed politely and smiled at Filanna. “I can show you how to get up the city wall, if you like. It offers a splendid view and I thought you might like to watch your people depart from there.”

“Oh yes, that would be wonderful,” Filanna said, touched by his thoughtfulness.

Thranduil took the reins of his horse and stroked the mare’s silky nose. “Well, Rínion,” he said to his son and heir, “I think we can safely leave now.”

“I agree, Ada.” Rínion leapt up into the saddle. “It is a long road ahead and I already miss my lovely feather bed.” He took up the reins and smiled at Filanna. “Count your blessings, sister! At least you won’t have to sleep on the ground tonight and listen to the snoring of those fellows over there.” He nodded at the mounted Mirkwood warriors.

Thranduil snorted disapprovingly. “Lórien has spoiled you shamefully, my son. Let us get on the road where the wild can make a man of you once more.”

Rínion rolled his eyes and winked at Filanna as he steered his horse in the direction of the gates. Filanna wistfully watched the group depart until Orophin took her hand and gave it a tug, saying, “This way.”

Together they climbed a wooden stair that gave access to the wall walk along the top of the city wall. They chose a spot directly above the gates, from where they could watch the Mirkwood elves ride away over the main road below. She had expected this to be the hardest part, but now that she actually saw them go, she felt acceptive rather than sad. The view, the beautiful weather and the gentle spring breeze on her face lifted her spirits, and why would she feel alone and lost with Orophin standing next to her? She was touched that he had come to keep her company.

“You weren’t at the party last night,” she said conversationally.

“No, I had obligations elsewhere. To my own great regret, I might add, as I am very fond of parties. Was it enjoyable?”

She nodded and told him about her meeting with Inis. Her conversation with Haldir, however, she did not mention.

“You will enjoy teaching Drauglan,” Orophin assured her. “He is a sweet-tempered child and will give you little trouble. When is the first lesson?”

“Sometime this week, probably,” Filanna said. “We haven’t set a date yet, but I do meet Inis and Drauglan tomorrow. I promised Inis I would help her choose his equipment.”

“That’s an excellent idea. There is a place you can go, I don’t know if you’ve heard about it. A talan where all kinds of archery accessories are kept--”

“Yes, I have heard about it,” she said, keeping her eyes on the group of riders in the distance. Once they disappeared between the trees, she would truly be separated from her family for the first time in her life.

“How often will you have stable duty?” Orophin inquired.

“Every morning ‘till noon, to start with,” she replied. “Perhaps more often once I am familiar with the routine and everything. We’ll have to see how it goes.”

“You are really looking forward to it, aren’t you?”

Filanna nodded vigorously. “It is something I’ve always wanted to do, but was never allowed to. The Lady is so kind to give me this opportunity.”

“That reminds me,” Orophin said. “The Lady has arranged for you to be transferred to another talan, where you will be staying during the rest of your time here. She also asked me to assist you with the moving of your belongings, which she expects to be done today.”

“What?” Confused, Filanna turned to face him. “Must I move? But I am content with the talan I stay in now. It has everything I need.”

“Truly?” Orophin’s mouth curved into a smile. “So a kitchen isn’t something you need, then.”

She stared at him for a few, silent moments, then started to laugh. “Now that you mention it, the absence of a kitchen would indeed be a problem. How silly of me to forget that.”

“Your new home will please you,” he said. “It is not far from your guest talan, which will simplify the moving of your possessions.”

“I don’t have many personal things.”

“All the sooner we’ll be finished.” He grinned. “I did mention that I am at heart a lazy elf, didn’t I?”

“More than once, actually,” she said with a chuckle. “Believe me, I appreciate your help even more because of it. And thank you for bringing me up here, Orophin. It was very kind of you to come.”

“My pleasure,” he said. “Do you wish to linger here, or are you ready to go and see your new home?”

She threw a last, lingering glance at the group of riders, soon to be swallowed by the distant trees. “Yes,” she said. “I think I am ready for that.”

xxx

Later, as the day dwindled and most families of Caras Galadhon gathered in their telain for the evening meal, Orophin climbed the stairs leading to Haldir’s talan, a book under his arm. He hadn’t had the opportunity to visit his brother earlier today and when he reached Haldir’s flet he saw to his contentment that the balcony doors were open-- a sure sign that his brother was indeed at home.

He walked up to the front door, knocked and called, “‘Tis me, brother!”

“Enter,” came the familiar, muffled response through the door. Orophin stepped inside, only to be greeted by an empty living room and the mouth-watering scent of something delicious being cooked. Almost immediately Haldir appeared from the kitchen, a tea-towel in one hand and a wet glass in the other.

“Good day, Haldir.” Orophin smirked, looking pointedly at these accessories. “Where is the apron?”

“I choose not to respond to that,” Haldir said with an even expression on his face. “What brings you and your unparalleled sense of humor to my doorstep, dear brother?”

“This, among other things.” Orophin held the book aloft with a triumphant smile. “The book you lent me. I remembered to bring it at last.”

Haldir turned around and went back into the kitchen. Orophin heard the sound of a cupboard being opened. “And how many dog-ears will I count this time?”

“Not one,” Orophin replied. “I have been very careful with it, at your request, and it is in pristine state. Are you impressed?”

“Suspicious, rather.” Haldir’s voice held amusement. “Have you read it at all?”

“Brother, I am insulted. How can you even doubt it? I read it from cover to cover.”

“And did you find it instructive?”

“If instructive is your synonym for appallingly boring, then yes,” Orophin said, making a face. “I wanted to close my eyes and take a nap every time I was reading it.”

“Well, what did you expect from a manual on medicinal plants?” Haldir said dryly. “Surely you did not think it would be as entertaining as Lanthirion’s collected work.”

Orophin smirked. Lanthirion was a second age minstrel whose erotic poems and ballads had won him immortal acclaim and popularity. Every self-respecting male owned at least one copy of his poetry, usually kept close to the bed.

“And may I remind you that it was your own idea to brush up your knowledge in that area?” Haldir continued. More sounds of earthenware being piled and put away came from the kitchen. “I merely delivered the material you asked for.”

“Peace, brother.” Orophin chuckled. “No accusations are being made. Yes, it was my own idea and a good one, too. I had forgotten a lot.” He put the book on the table. “Say, Haldir, what smells so divine in here?”

“Nothing fancy. Just an omelette with vegetables and cheese.” Haldir appeared in the doorway between kitchen and living room, two plates in his hands. “Here, make yourself useful and set the table.” Without further warning, he almost casually threw one of the plates at Orophin, sending it spinning through the air in a horizontal course. The second followed almost immediately, and Orophin had to react quickly, plucking the projectiles out of the air before they hit the wall behind him and were smashed to pieces.

“You idiot!” he said breathlessly, turning to Haldir once the plates were safe in his hands. “What did you do that for?”

“Ah.” Haldir gave the superior grin he sometimes used to tease Orophin, knowing that it irritated his youngest brother beyond measure. “It is a captain’s prerogative to test his soldiers’ reflexes at any given moment.”

Orophin scowled. “And what if I had dropped the plates, _captain_?”

“Then of course my wrath would have been terrible.”

Orophin grumbled under his breath as he put the plates on the table. “Who is the mystery guest, anyway?”

A sigh from the kitchen. “The mystery guest is related to me, has a way of getting himself free meals by making unexpected appearances at dinnertime and is standing in my living room as we speak. I give you three guesses.”

“Oh, it is me?” Orophin struck an exaggerated pose of delight, even though Haldir couldn’t see it. “Brother, you are too good.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Soon the two of them were sitting at the table, eating their omelettes and enjoying a glass of wine, while Orophin told Haldir about his day, going into great detail about Filanna’s new home. She had so few personal possessions that they were able to bring them all to the other talan in one go, so it had been an easy job. Filanna’s new home looked a tad bare still, but Orophin was confident that she would find ways to make improvements. Haldir listened to Orophin’s chatting with mild interest, not commenting much.

“Oh, and hear this, Haldir,” Orophin said, leaning forward conspiratorially, “It so appears that you aren’t the only one whose eye has fallen on the princess.”

Haldir only raised an eyebrow in response. It was a minimal and rather disappointing reaction, but Orophin did not give up so easily.

“She had a flower in her talan,” he explained. “It stood on the table in a glass of water and I got the distinct impression that it came from an admirer, for she blushed very becomingly when she saw me look at it. I made no comment because I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but I’m awfully curious. Who do you think--”

“Was it a yellow flower?” Haldir asked suddenly, his gaze resting thoughtfully on his plate.

“Yes,” Orophin said, taken aback by what was too accurate to be just a lucky guess. “It was a mallorn blossom, actually. How do you know?”

“Simple.” Haldir shrugged. “I was the one who gave it to her.”

Orophin’s jaw practically dropped. “You, brother? No, you must be joking.”

“I assure you I am not.”

“But... but why...” Orophin rubbed his chin, staring at Haldir in disbelief. As fond of females as his brother was, showing his affection by bringing his ellith flowers was something Haldir, for reasons of principle only he understood, just did not do. It was a peculiarity Orophin had grown to be so used to that this came as a complete shock.

“Don’t look as if the sky has just come falling down, Orophin.” Haldir’s voice had a testy edge to it now. “I am not courting her. It was a gift of friendship and that is all there is to it. Besides, it’s not as though it was a preconceived plan. We were sitting by the-- oh, why am I even explaining this to you? It is truly none of your business.”

Orophin was still looking at his brother attentively. “You are irritated.”

“Irritated, yes, because you are looking for hidden meanings that simply aren’t there. It annoys me and I would appreciate it if you would just let it rest.”

“Very well,” Orophin said slowly, taking a sip of his wine. “Something else, then. I was thinking of inviting Filanna over for dinner tomorrow. It is going to be a busy first day for her, so I thought she would find it a relief not to have to worry about dinner preparations as well.”

“You want to cook her a meal?” Haldir smirked. “I admire your bravery, brother. This elleth is used to dinners prepared for kings and rulers, mind you; she might find your culinary creations slightly inferior to what she is accustomed to.”

Orophin snorted. “Thank you for your valuable input. I take it you support the idea, then?”

“By all means, go ahead,” Haldir said with a nonchalant gesture. “You have my blessing.”

“Why don’t you come too?” Orophin proposed shrewdly. “You are due back at the border the day after tomorrow so it will be your last evening in Caras Galadhon. I would like you to come, brother dear.”

Haldir shook his head. “Not a good idea, Orophin. The princess is uncomfortable in my presence, despite my repeated attempts to achieve the opposite, so for the sake of all it is probably best if I stay away.”

“Hmm.” Orophin pondered this for a few moments. “Then why don’t I invite our dear friend Inis as well? She and Filanna seem to be getting along quite well. She can even bring Drauglan along. Wouldn’t that be a nice icebreaker?” He smiled slyly at Haldir, who shrugged again.

“I suppose so.”

“Well, do we have an agreement then? Can I count on you to be there?”

“If Filanna has no objections, then you will hear no more protests from me either.” Haldir’s voice sounded even, with an edge of testiness that told Orophin his brother was impatient to close the subject.

Pleased with what he had achieved, Orophin sat back in his chair, thoughtfully watching Haldir finish his meal. His brother was pretending indifference, and doing a surprisingly bad job at it. Haldir usually guarded his emotions infuriatingly well, but something was stirring beneath that stoic surface and although it wasn’t hard for Orophin to identify the cause of Haldir’s chagrin, as it was something all males had to deal with from time to time, he was both amused and surprised to see his eldest brother struggle with it for a change.

 _Wait until you get home and hear this, Rúmil,_ he addressed his other sibling in thought. _Haldir has been rejected by a female and believe it or not, he is actually bothered by it._

He smiled. Yes, there was indeed a first time for everything.


	8. Into The Swing

Filanna had butterflies in her stomach when she pulled the talan door shut behind her early the next morning and set out for the city stables, where she was supposed to meet a certain Felegron, the head of the stable staff and the one who would instruct her on this first day of work. Thus it had been arranged by Lady Galadriel, who very kindly had taken it upon herself to make most of the preparations for the start of Filanna’s new career.

She walked at her leisure, taking in the sounds and sights of Caras Galadhon at this early hour. April was nearing its end and spring was about to unfold, with flowers budding, young birds getting their first flying lessons, and all those other delights the month of May would bring. Already the days were getting warmer, and Filanna enjoyed the mild, fragrant morning air as she walked, feeling oddly at peace with herself and with the world in general, her nervousness notwithstanding. It was a good feeling.

The city already offered a lively picture at this hour, and although Filanna had had the opportunity to observe the early doings and goings of the Galadhrim before, she found she was now looking about her with a newly discovered interest, seeing things that had escaped her attention before. Things that made her realize how different this place was from her homeland, and gave her a whole new appreciation of those differences. Take the sentinels, for example, the Lord and Lady’s personal guards. In Mirkwood they were called sentries, and they wore uniforms of grey and the deepest green. Lórien’s sentinels however went dressed in white and cobalt blue, and each carried a ceremonial halberd as part of their equipment. The wardens, hardy protectors of Lórien’s borders, were more soberly attired in black and various tones of grey. And then there were the elves who were clearly officials or politicians of some sort, looking very solemn and important in their flowing robes of state; healers, also robed but with the small, flower-shaped brooch of their trade upon their chest; smiths, woodworkers, agrarians, and other representatives of the various crafts and trades a large community like Caras Galadhon relied upon. It felt rather exciting that she would now be part of that community, that she would truly be contributing for the first time in her life, even though she was of course a stranger here, something she was very much aware of.

She noticed there were also many females up and about, some of them leading children by the hand, some carrying baskets for laundering or a visit to the market. Some walked in small groups, having hushed conversations with now and then an outburst of giggles and laughter. It made Filanna smile, and she found that the walk calmed her nerves considerably.

She saw no one when finally she arrived at the stables, so she simply went inside, heading straight for Mithrenfin’s box. In his excitement to see her, the feisty stallion nearly kicked the wooden construction to splinters, spooking the horses in his proximity as he did so.

“Calm down!” she said with a laugh, reaching out to stroke his head soothingly. “You incorrigible hothead, have you forgotten that you’re not a yearling anymore?”

Now that he had her attention, Mithrenfin lowered his head onto her shoulder and made low, whinnying sounds of misery and discontentment. If he’d been capable of it, he would surely have been pouting.

“What is it? Are you missing the others?” She let his velvety ears slide through her fingers as she spoke softly to him. “And I haven’t given you much attention these past few days either, have I? I am sorry, mellon nîn. I won’t have as much time for long rides as I used to, I’m afraid, but you will be seeing quite a lot of me, that I can promise you.” She smiled and continued to stroke him affectionately, knowing quite well how to work her way back into his good graces.

“Better now?” she asked. “I suppose you will have to make new friends here too, ‘Fin, now that the others are gone. Just like me.”

He neighed at that and nodded his head enthusiastically, the silver lock on his forehead dancing with the movement.

“You already have? Well! It seems I can take an example from you then.” She smiled. “Just don’t get too friendly with the pretty Lórien mares, all right?”

“You are Filanna,” came a voice from behind her.

She started and spun around, finding herself eye to eye with a tall, strong-looking elf whose face was somewhat familiar. She remembered seeing him around here a couple of times before, which was not very surprising as she had been a frequent visitor over the past two weeks. He had friendly eyes, and silver hair like the majority of the Galadhrim.

“Yes, I am,” she said. “And you must be--”

“Felegron, pleased to meet you.” Smiling jovially, he stuck out a large hand to her. “I wave the sceptre here, so I am to be in charge of you.”

She hesitantly placed her hand in his and let it be shaken. This manner of greeting was new to her. “Hello,” she said timidly. “Thank you for having me, sir. I’ve never done this kind of thing before, so I hope I won’t be a burden to you.”

“Oh, not to worry, I’m not so hard to please,” he said lightly. “Just remember a few basic rules and I think we’ll get along just fine. One: always be on time, two: work hard...”

“And three?” she asked when he paused.

“Number three is a very important rule. It says: pretend you like my jokes.” He gave her a good-humored wink to stress that he was jesting. “That always helps.”

She laughed, and his smile broadened.

“Very good, you are a quick learner,” he said approvingly. “Now, are you aware that this is hard and often dirty work?”

“Of course.”

“And you have no problem with that?”

“No, far from it.”

His eyes flicked down and up in a quick inspection of her attire. “Are you sure this is what you want to wear today?”

“Why?” Worriedly she looked down at her embroidered white tunic and brown leggings. “Is something wrong with it?”

“Nothing, except that it looks so fine, I wouldn’t want to see it soiled if I were you. And soiled it will be, that I guarantee you. This is dirty work like I said.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling rather silly. She had realized before that she might be presented with a clothing problem, as she had brought very little from Mirkwood, and for her stable work alone she would need a clean set every day. Not to mention the fact that she would have to bathe and change into clean clothes after every shift. A visit to the fitters was probably in order, but until then she would just have to do a lot of laundering.

“No, it is fine,” she reassured her new employer, thinking of her crammed wardrobe back home in Mirkwood. “I don’t mind if it gets dirty.”

“Very well.” He smiled again. “Say, you’ve got a temperamental one there.”

Filanna shifted her gaze to Mithrenfin, who was looking at them with a keen interest. “Yes, he can be a handful,” she said affectionately. “But underneath all that bravado he is the sweetest little pony, really.”

Felegron let his expert eye slide appreciatively over the stallion’s form. “He truly is stunning. I like it when a horse shows some grit. Is he difficult to ride?”

“Not when you know how to handle him,” Filanna said. “I trained him myself.”

Felegron finished his appraisal of Filanna’s horse and smiled at her. “Well, let’s see how you get along with horses that are not your own. Follow me, please.”

He turned and stalked away with strides so long that she had to take a little sprint to catch up with him.

“Our team is three-and-forty head strong, you included,” Felegron explained. “I am here most of the time, as are a few others, but the majority work in shifts like you. We clean the boxes every day, groom the horses every other day, and clean the harnesses and bridles as often as is needed. And of course we let the horses outside in the fenced meadow every day. As you will surely understand, it is important that we keep the mares in heat separated from the stallions, because omitting to do so is asking for all kinds of trouble we can definitely do without. We also train and exercise the horses if necessary, especially when they are recovering from an injury. Are you familiar with groundwork? Lunge line training?”

“Yes, I am,” Filanna replied, still trotting beside him.

“Excellent. Well, as far as everything else goes, watch and learn is my advice. You will become familiar with the routine soon enough.” He glanced at her. “There is another thing I should prepare you for. Although we usually let nature take its course, we are occasionally called in to assist during a foaling. Would that be a problem for you?”

“Oh, no.” In her excitement, Filanna nearly tripped over her own feet. “I would love that.”

He chuckled. “We’ll see if you still love it when you are lifted from your bed and summoned to a cold stable in the middle of the night. We’ll see. Anyway, here we are.”

He halted by the box of a noble-looking, dappled grey horse with dark mane and tail, another stallion. He was beautiful of build, and Filanna took him in with admiration, thinking that this could easily be the steed of a king or a lord.

She had barely finished this thought when Felegron said, “This is Odaragar, Lord Celeborn’s horse. When the lord still lived in Doriath, a long time ago, he once found a wild young colt that had been injured. It would not have survived in the wild, so Celeborn took it home, nursed it back to health and tamed it. The young stallion never lost his wild nature completely but he blossomed into a strong, beautiful horse and a fast runner, some say the fastest of his time. Celeborn named him Balan, but he became known as Balan the Great, a name that is remembered still.”

Felegron paused a moment to let the words sink in. Filanna was unsure as to where this was going, but she loved stories about great and legendary horses, so she listened attentively.

“Celeborn loved that horse,” Felegron continued. “All the horses he has ridden since that time were of Balan’s bloodline, as is Odaragar. What do you think of him?”

“He is magnificent,” Filanna said.

Felegron nodded. “Almost the exact likeness of his illustrious forefather, according to Lord Celeborn. And not in appearance only, for he can rival your grey mount in temperament, and he is just as wary of strangers.” The Galadhel smiled and paused again, briefly. “Lead him out of his box, please.”

Filanna looked at him uncertainly. “Lead him...”

“... Out of his box, into the corridor.” He gave her an encouraging nod. “Don’t worry, there is no catch. I just want to see you handle him.”

Filanna looked the stallion in the eye, and he in turn regarded her warily, somewhat haughtily even. Oh, this was the horse of an elven lord all right, with the attitude to match. Smiling, she opened the low door and stepped inside confidently. The first horse that could intimidate her had yet to be born.

“Hello there, aren’t you a handsome fellow?” she greeted him in a light and friendly tone. “The lord and master of the stable, eh? I am Filanna.” She held out her hand invitingly, palm up. “You and I will see a lot of each other in the time to come, so I think we should become friends. What do you say?”

Odaragar, who stood with his head raised high, looked down his nose at her, his nostrils wide open as he took in her unfamiliar scent. His ears stood straight up, turned towards her, and his body was perfectly still. A few moments went by without anything happening, but then his curiosity seem to get the better of him, for he slowly lowered his head and nuzzled her palm. Filanna reached out her other hand and started stroking his neck.

“Where should I scratch you?” she murmured. “Hm? Should I scratch you here?” Moving closer, she located a spot just below the dark mane, where the neck met the muscled shoulders. “Is this the right spot?”

Odaragar had raised his head once more, and the grunting sounds he made low in his throat told Filanna that she was making good progress.

“Well, you’re not such a hard nut to crack, are you?” She chuckled, continuing to pet him. “For a moment there I thought you were going to give me trouble, big chief, but look at you being a sweet horse now. I think we can become quite good friends, you and I.”

The next challenge was to lure him out of his box. Like all the horses in the stable, he wasn’t wearing a halter or any other accessory she could use, so she had to use more sweet words to achieve the desired effect; but achieve it she did, for the proud stallion eventually followed her out of the box without any struggle.

“There’s a good lad,” she complimented him, and he responded by nuzzling her face, which tickled and made her laugh.

“Very good,” said Felegron, whose presence she had almost forgotten about. “HIs bridle and saddle are over there, hanging over the partition. Harness him, please.”

Filanna did as she was asked. First she placed the folded rectangular blanket on Odaragar’s broad withers, to protect them from being chafed. The saddle came on top of that, and she secured it while making sure that the straps and buckles would not hinder him. She continued to talk to him in the meantime, petting him occasionally to reward him for his patience. The bridle came last, and when she had finished Felegron did a quick inspection of her work. He seemed pleased with what he saw, for he gave an approving nod and said, “Now unsaddle him again.”

He laughed when he saw the look on her face. “No, I am not pulling your leg, Filanna. It’s all part of the test I subject every new groom to. You are doing well, don’t worry.”

She complied and put the gear back where she had found it. But Felegron was not done with her yet, and in the hour that followed he made her check and clean all four of Odaragar’s hooves, brush him from nose to tail and answer a ton of questions about equine anatomy, diet, diseases and general care. Luckily Odaragar was giving no trouble at all; in fact he seemed to be greatly enjoying the attentions, but by the time Filanna finished grooming him, her muscles were sore and sweat was trickling down her face. She clearly was not in the best physical condition, but it was in fact the oral exam that wore her out the most. She had not expected her knowledge to be put so thoroughly to the test today, which was probably a good thing because it would only have made her more nervous, but it did feel good not to be given the special treatment for a change.

“Very well, that should do it,” he said eventually, indicating that she could put the brush aside. “You can clean out his box now, but first let us take him outside, where he won’t be in your way.”

They led Odaragar further down the corridor, Felegron talking again and Filanna listening, trying to memorize all information. He pointed out the store rooms to her as they went, telling her where she could find the grooming and cleaning tools, gear, straw, food supplies and so forth. They also crossed paths with a few of her new colleagues and he introduced her to each of them, something she underwent shyly. But they did seem nice and rather welcoming.

Eventually they made a turn, passed through a high doorway and suddenly stood in the open air, a wide meadow stretching out before them. A simple wooden fence encompassed it, and it was bordered by trees. Odaragar was already moving restlessly, dancing impatiently on his feet, and when Felegron opened the fence he shot past them, galloping away over the sunlit grass. Filanna followed him with her eyes, admiring his majestic gait and shiny coat, the latter partly being the result of her labor. The next moment, ironically, Odaragar found himself a spot in the sun, lowered himself onto the ground and started rolling around in the soil.

 _No, don’t!_ Filanna almost wailed when she saw all her hard work being undone in a mere blink of the eye, but instead she threw her head back and laughed.

Felegron smiled. “You take it surprisingly well. I’ve seen people burst into tears in similar situations.”

Filanna, who was still chuckling, shrugged her shoulders. “What can you do? He’s a horse.”

“I am very content,” Felegron said as they went back inside together. “I wasn’t easy on you, but as everyone working for me knows, that is a compliment. I would not have been so demanding if I hadn’t been convinced of your competence, and I wouldn’t have introduced you to Odaragar so soon either. He is one of our most difficult horses, and I was impressed by the way you handled him.”

Filanna blushed with pleasure. “It really wasn’t that difficult.”

He smiled. “Listen, I realize I have been pouring out an awful lot of information on you, but please do not hesitate to turn to me or one of the others if you have any questions. That is what colleagues are for, after all-- to help each other out.”

She nodded thankfully. “I will remember that.”

Upon returning to Odaragar’s now empty box, Felegron gave her a shovel, a broom, a sponge and a pail with soap. “A wheelbarrow stands over there, the stream is just outside,” he said. “Do you think I can leave you to it?”

“Yes, sir,” Filanna said. “What do I do once I have finished this?”

“Then you will clean out these as well.” He pointed out a few of the adjacent boxes. “You can take the horses outside like we did with Odaragar. After finishing that, report to me and I will give you something else to do.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and Filanna?” He smiled. “You may do like everyone else and call me by my name.”

She blushed again. “I will. Sorry.”

“Good luck.” He briefly placed a hand upon her shoulder and added, “And welcome to the crew.” With that he turned around and left. For a few moments she stood almost motionless, looking around her with her arms full of cleaning supplies and feeling somewhat perplexed. Oh, if her family could see her now! Or better yet, her father’s uptight advisors who had served the Mirkwood crown for a few generations too many and were always worried she might do something that was not in accordance with the protocol. Wouldn’t they be utterly shocked if they knew that she would be cleaning up horse dirt and scrubbing floors for a living? She almost giggled out loud in glee as she pictured their faces. But after allowing herself this little pleasure she turned her attention to the task at hand, putting the pail and broom aside for now and taking the shovel in both hands. There was work to be done.

Filanna performed the task with great concentration, eager as she was to do this right. It was heavy labor indeed, but because she had had some practice in the past, she could work quite efficiently all the same. She had already cleaned out four boxes and was busy shovelling old straw into the wheelbarrow when, to her complete surprise and delight, Orophin dropped by for a visit.

“How is it going?” he inquired as he came sauntering toward her. “So Felegron already cracked the whip on you, did he? May I say you look rather... heated, Filanna.”

“Do I?” Filanna touched her own cheek and realized that he was right. There were already stains in her dishevelled tunic, she was sweaty and her hair probably looked like something had nested in it.

“Valar, I must look awful,” she said, self-consciously tucking stray locks behind her ears. She wasn’t an elleth who cared very much about her looks, but she did find it important to look presentable and that was definitely not the case at the moment.

“Nothing a nice long soak can’t fix,” he said reassuringly.

His tact made her smile. “Did you come especially to see me, Orophin?”

“I did,” he said. “You see, I am hosting a small dinner at my place tonight, and I thought I’d stop by and let you know that you are cordially invited to join.”

Filanna nearly fainted. “M-me?” she stammered. “You want me at your party?”

“Hmm, party may not be the right word. Let’s call it an intimate gathering of brave souls willing to expose themselves to my cooking skills. But yes, you are very welcome.” He winked and added, “Just so you know, I do serve a good wine. So even if the food is garbage, we’ll still have a mighty good time.”

Filanna laughed. “Who else will come?”

“Inis and Haldir,” Orophin replied. “And Inis will probably bring Drauglan along.”

“That is nice.” She bit her lip.

“You don’t mind Haldir being there, do you?” Orophin asked in a casual tone. “It is his last evening in Caras Galadhon and treating him to a last, decent dinner is the least I can do for him.” He smirked. “Patrol meals don’t exactly excel in quality, you know. Even I can do better than that.”

“Haldir is leaving?”

“The call of duty, Filanna. It can’t be denied.” He smiled. “Soon it will be my turn again, too.”

“Oh.” Filanna lowered her eyes. She did not like being reminded of the fact that Orophin would be away frequently, and for quite long periods of time. She knew that she would miss him, when the time came, for she had become quite fond of him in the past two weeks.

“I will gladly come, Orophin,” she told him. “Thank you for the kind invitation.”

“Splendid.” He smiled and seemed genuinely pleased. “I will see you tonight, then. I will now leave you to your work and start with the preparations. There is much to do and I’m on a schedule.”

She laughed and wished him good luck, after which he parted from her. She worked the remainder of the morning without interruptions, although she was addressed a few times by some of her new colleagues, who made inquiries and commented on her work. She did a number of different jobs that morning and seemed to be doing them well, for Felegron seemed overall pleased with the results of her work and gave only a few suggestions for improvement. Every nod of approval from him gave her satisfaction, and confirmed that she was finally doing something she was good at.

By the end of the morning Filanna was tired, sore and hungry, but she felt so accomplished that it hardly mattered. Once all the horses had been brought outside, Felegron gave her leave to go. Even so, Filanna did not go home immediately but lingered by the meadow for a while, leaning on the fence and observing the horses at play, studying their behaviour and trying to identify them by their unique characteristics. She was determined to know all of their names by the end of the week.

Taking a bath was the first thing she did when she came home, for she reeked of horse, so much so that she feared the Galadhrim would be able to smell it from a mile away. Her clothes went into the laundry basket and she put on a clean set from the wardrobe. The bath had refreshed and revitalized her; it was now her growling stomach that demanded attention, and just as she stood wondering what to do, a few soft knocks on the door announced Inis’s arrival. They had agreed to meet this afternoon, but Filanna had not expected her so soon.

“I’m early, aren’t I?” Inis apologized as soon as Filanna opened the door. “If it’s inconvenient, I can come back later.”

“No, it’s no problem,” Filanna assured her. “Where is Drauglan?”

“Still in school,” Inis replied. “I will be picking him up in a while, but I wondered if Orophin had spoken with you yet.”

“Yes, he stopped by while I was working.” Filanna opened the door wider. “Do you want to come in for a moment? I just finished dressing. But I fear I don’t have anything to offer you, because I haven’t had time to go out and make my purchases yet.”

“I have an idea,” Inis said. “Why don’t we go together? I need some material for a dress and I can show you the best stalls on the market, if you like.”

“Oh, would you?” Filanna was relieved. The prospect of having to go to the market and mingle with the crowd was something she had dreaded, but it would be much easier if she had company. “Yes, I would like that very much.”

Soon they were on their way to the market, talking about Filanna’s first morning at work and about Orophin’s dinner party. Because Filanna still did not know where Orophin’s talan was located, they arranged that Inis and Drauglan would come to collect her first, so they could all walk to Orophin’s talan together.

The daily market of Caras Galadhon was to be found in a glade near the centre of the city and offered a colourful sight, with its many stalls for fruit, vegetables, bread and dairy products, various domestic articles, clothes and so forth. Merchants were loudly singing the praises of their goods, competing to attract potential buyers, and the whole place was like a beehive, noisy and crowded, and Filanna looked all about her in awe.

With the help of Inis, who showed her the best stands, Filanna purchased bread, eggs, oil for cooking, soap for laundering, cheese and a generous supply of fruit and vegetables. After that she was forced to stop buying because she could carry no more, but she did accompany Inis to the stall where she usually bought her materials and watched her new friend haggle with the vendor over a six meter piece of night blue silk. After they had reached an agreement, Inis examined some of the other materials lying on display, sometimes touching or lifting a piece of cloth to check its weight or quality. Filanna looked on in fascination, until Inis suddenly picked up a bolt of purple velvet and held it in front of her.

“This would look fabulous on you,” she said, studying the effect.

“What?” Filanna looked down at the cloth being held under her chin, then at Inis’s face. “What do you mean?”

“This material,” Inis explained. “Don’t you just love it? It is really your colour; the violet complements your complexion and brings out your eyes, too.”

“But I never wear purple,” Filanna said, blushing slightly. She had never had a real liking for the colour, preferring the less flashy earth tones instead, and green and white. Purple would only clash with the fiery red her face usually assumed every few minutes, she reasoned.

“I think you should,” Inis said. “I could make a lovely dress out of this.” Gazing thoughtfully at Filanna and drawing invisible lines in the air, she murmured, “With a scooped neck... wide brocade sleeves... and--”

“Inis,” Filanna interrupted, fidgeting uncomfortably.

Inis laughed, somewhat self-consciously. “Oh, I’m sorry. This always happens to me when I see a beautiful material like this; I get inspired and my imagination just takes over.”

“No, it’s not that.” Filanna blushed again. “It’s just that you can spare yourself the trouble. I don’t wear dresses if I can avoid it.”

“Really?” Inis looked a little bewildered. “Why?”

Filanna shrugged. “Leggings suit me better. They may not be very feminine, but they are comfortable and practical, especially for riding. And I ride every day, so...” She gave an almost apologetic smile.

“I see.” Inis put the bolt of cloth back carefully. “Well, if you ever change your mind... The offer still stands.”

The two ellith continued their stroll for a while. They had pancakes with fruit filling for lunch, a local specialty that tasted delicious, but Filanna was not used to eating with only her hands and spilled on her tunic in the process. She cursed herself for being so clumsy, but did not let it dampen her spirits for long. When in the end Inis announced that it was time for her to go and pick up Drauglan, they agreed to meet later and went their separate ways.

Filanna’s purchases weighed quite a lot, and she found that the long climb to her talan did not make them seem any lighter. She wasn’t even halfway up yet when her arms, which were already sore from that morning, started to protest against the weight, but Filanna tried to ignore it and plodded on.

“Do you need help with that?” a strange ellon offered when he saw her struggling.

“No, thank you,” Filanna said quickly. “I can manage.”

Doubtfully the elf took in her heated face. “Are you sure?”

“Oh yes, I’m very sure.” Filanna, unwilling to be forced into the role of damsel in distress, forced a smile, hoping that the elf would just let her be and mind his own business. And indeed, he shrugged and continued his way downstairs. He probably thought her stubborn, but Filanna was determined to prove to the world, and to herself most of all, that she could cope on her own.

Finally she reached her talan, and she put the bags on the kitchen counter with a sigh of relief. She started unpacking, and once she had put everything away, she took a moment to study the effect of the no longer empty kitchen cupboards. The fruit she arranged in a glass bowl which she put on the dining table, the only suitable place available. As a result, she had to move the glass with the flower to another place, and after long deliberation she put it on the bedside cabinet after all. She had come to love the scent the blossom gave off. As she carefully fingered the yellow petals, however, she noted that they were starting to fade-- a most grievous discovery.

In the bathing chamber she rubbed the fruit stains on her tunic with a wet cloth, but she only seemed to be making things worse by doing so. She took off the garment with a self-deprecating smile, tossed it in the laundry basket on top of the clothes she had worn at work that morning, and took another clean tunic from the wardrobe. This was going much faster than she had imagined.

After eating an apple and two oranges (she was still a little hungry), she went out again and met with Inis and Drauglan. Together they headed for the talan with archery supplies Haldir had told them about, and Drauglan, who was a bundle of excitement, frolicked to and fro, telling all who wanted to hear it that he was about to get his first bow.

When they arrived, they were welcomed by a male elf who introduced himself as Damrod. He assisted them throughout the entire process, offering advice and suggestions as he let Drauglan try one bow after another. Filanna, initially tried to remain in the background, but once Damrod found out that she was to be the child’s teacher he immediately involved her in the conversation, asking her for her opinion. Even though she was very aware that she was out of her depth here, as she had never done this before, she tried her best to act like the confident archery expert Damrod obviously took her for. In the end, they found a bow that matched well with Drauglan’s height and arm length and was in good shape. A small quiver and arrows made his equipment complete. The boy was ecstatic, and with a heartfelt “Thank you, Nana,” he embraced his mother with all the power he possessed. After that it was Filanna’s turn, and although she was taken aback by his childlike spontaneity, she was also strangely moved by it.

“When do we start?” he asked her eagerly. “Today?”

“No, not today, you silly elfling,” Filanna said with a chuckle, and she smoothed a hand over his hair. How could anyone resist a cute little face like that? “The day is almost over. It will be dark soon.”

“Oh.” He looked dejected for a moment. “But soon, yes?”

Filanna gave him a reassuring smile. “Yes, very soon.”

When they came outside, they were surprised to see that the sky, which had been clear and sunny all day, had now filled itself with grey clouds. Already the first thick drops of rain were falling.

“How can this be?” Filanna said, staring up at the sky. She had not seen this break in the weather coming at all.

“It is the first spring rain,” Inis said with a smile of delight. “I love watching those soft April showers, don’t you?”

“Yes, but I think I prefer to go and watch it from a dry place,” Filanna said. “Orophin is not expecting us yet, is he?”

“No, I’ll come and pick you up when it is time.”

They parted once again, hastily this time, as the rain was now starting to pour down for real. The canopies of the trees did offer some shelter, but not enough, and Filanna did not dare run home too hard as she did not feel confident enough on the wet stairs, so high above the ground. When she arrived at her talan at last, she was completely drenched, and it was only after she had crossed the living room floor and gone into the bathing chamber to examine her reflection (which looked dreadful), that she discovered that her boots were leaving a trail of muddy footprints on the floor.

“Brilliant,” she muttered. “Well done, Filanna.”

With that, she slowly sank into a chair and started to laugh.

xxx

The rain had stopped when Inis and Drauglan came to Filanna’s door later that day, and dusk was falling quickly. Filanna opened the door at Inis’s knocking, but only ajar, and peeked out.

“Are you ready?” Inis asked her.

“No,” Filanna replied with a slightly squeaky voice. “I am not ready, and I won’t be ready anytime soon. In fact, I don’t think I can go.”

“What?” Inis’s eyebrows rose in confusion. “Why not?”

Filanna did not reply right away, fidgeting with embarrassment. Eventually she confessed softly, “I have nothing to wear.”

Inis’s brow relaxed, and she laughed. “Oh, is that all? That is what all women say before they go out, Filanna. I’m sure that something can be--”

“No, I’m serious.” Filanna could have laughed at the irony of the situation, had she not been so upset. “I really have nothing to wear. That tunic I wore this afternoon was drenched by the rain, I can’t get it dry in time. And it was the last clean tunic I had, the rest is dirty and in need of laundering.”

“Oh dear.” Inis pointed at the white shirt Filanna was wearing. “What is that, then?”

“That is just an undertunic. It’s not decent, I can’t wear it to dinner.” Filanna felt so helpless she wanted to cry. It was not at all like her to be whining about clothes – or the lack of them – and if she had been staying in tonight she couldn’t have cared less, but tonight, for the first time in her life, she had truly wanted to make a good impression.

“Well, I would gladly loan you some of my clothes,” Inis said, “but I am shorter than you. I fear they would not fit you.”

Filanna leaned against the door frame and sighed. Her eye fell on Drauglan, who was listening silently and with solemn, wide eyes. In his right hand he held his bow, which apparently he had not wanted to be parted from. He looked so worried that she gave him a smile to reassure him.

“Have you truly nothing left that is dry and clean?” Inis asked.

Filanna hesitated. “I have a gown,” she admitted eventually, without much enthusiasm. Her mother had pressed it into her hands when she was packing for the trip. “You never know, it may come in handy,” Naneth had said when Filanna protested, and because she didn’t want to argue over a silly dress, she had packed it, convinced that she would bring it back home unworn.

“Well, why didn’t you say so earlier?” Inis looked relieved. “You can wear the dress; it’s a good occasion for it, too.”

“I can’t.” This time Filanna’s sense of humor did win, and she laughed, sticking out her left foot. “I have no shoes to wear with it.”

Inis glanced at Filanna’s mud-caked boots, the only footwear she owned at the moment, and turned to her son. “Drauglan, run back home and fetch Nana’s new slippers. You know, the ones with the little butterfly on them? They’re in the closet in my bedroom.”

“Yes, Nana.” Clearly eager to make a contribution, Drauglan bolted down the stairs.

Filanna was touched. “Inis, you are very kind, but you really don’t have to do this.”

“I most definitely do. And tomorrow you are coming to my place to have your measurements taken for some tunics. An elleth can’t do without a decent back-up of extra clothes.” Inis smiled. “Now let’s get you into that dress, shall we?”

It was a dress in several shades of green, not too striking in design, with long sleeves and a rather chaste neckline, but it was a dress all the same and Filanna always felt strange in them, especially when she knew she would have to appear in public. Inis, however, could barely contain her excitement.

“Look at that fabric!” she enthused, stroking one of Filanna’s sleeves in appraisal. “And hardly any stitching visible. Is this of Mirkwood making?”

“Yes,” Filanna said, ill at ease.

“But you know, you shouldn’t wear your hair in a braid with this dress,” Inis went on. “Why don’t you try something more... elegant? That would really make it complete.”

“I... I don’t know,” Filanna said waveringly, but Inis was unstoppable now. Resolutely she pushed Filanna into a chair and set to work with a brush as if it was her daily business. She even used a few clips from her own hair to model Filanna’s into shape. Filanna could only sit and wait, too overwhelmed to resist and still not convinced that this makeover was a good idea.

“There,” Inis said, sooner than expected. She studied Filanna from different angles and seemed pleased with the result of her work. “Much more fitting. And my, you look so different!”

Filanna went into the bathing chamber and looked into the mirror. Inis had put up her hair and modelled it not unlike her own, leaving her ears and most of her neck free. She had to admit Inis was right, it did look better with the dress; but it was as if an entirely different person was looking back at her.

“Do you like it?” Inis stood in the doorway, smiling expectantly.

“I don’t know, Inis,” Filanna said hesitantly. “This is hardly me. What impression will I be making on Orophin and Haldir when I show up like this? They’ll think I’ve gone out of my way to make myself look pretty for them.” She scowled at the irony of it. Was she not the one who had always laughed at her sisters when they spent hours in front of the mirror just to please a male?

“And what is wrong with that?” Inis came over to her and placed her hands on her shoulders, making eye contact via the mirror. “You really need to get in touch with your feminine side, meldis,” she said teasingly. “Come, it is a very lovely dress and you look stunning. Besides, without a valid reason I’m not going to let you back out of this. And I don’t think you really want to.”

The sound of the front door being opened announced Drauglan’s return. “Nana?”

“We’re in here, ion.”

Drauglan appeared in the doorway. “Here are your slippers, Nana. I ran as fast as I could.”

“Thank you, my darling. Your return couldn’t have been better timed.” Inis gently maneuvered Filanna into Drauglan’s line of sight. “Take a look at Filanna here and tell me: does she look pretty or not?”

“Ooh,” Drauglan said, staring at Filanna as if he was seeing a whole new person. “Yes!”

The child’s honesty made Filanna smile in spite of her predicament. Inis smiled as well and said, “You see? This male expert has spoken. So put on those slippers and let’s go; our host is waiting.”

Filanna conceded, realizing she had no other choice. Inis had taken so much trouble for her, and she had promised Orophin she would come. She was probably being overdramatic anyway; why worry about something as trivial as a dress? Haldir was already familiar with the sight of her in her nightgown. And really, it couldn’t get much worse than that... could it?

xxx

The walk to Orophin’s talan was pleasant. The air was fresh and cool after the shower, and although the clouded sky heralded more rain, it was thankfully dry at the moment.

“I so love the scent of a forest after rainfall,” Filanna remarked, taking a few deep breaths.

“It’s one of the best things,” Inis agreed.

The curtains of Orophin’s talan were drawn, but light was shining behind them and the two ellith heard male voices inside. When they knocked, it was, surprisingly, Haldir who answered the door.

“Good evening, ladies,” he said with a gallant little bow. “Come on in, and please excuse my brother. He is currently putting the finishing touch to what is to be our evening meal, but will be with us shortly.”

Drauglan, unable to contain himself any longer, leaped forward and practically thrust his bow into the Marchwarden’s face. “Look, Haldir! Look what I got today! It’s a bow, _my_ bow!”

“Is it really?” Laughing, Haldir reached down and lifted the little boy high into the air. “Oh yes, would you look at that? Soon you will be the best archer in all of Lórien.”

“In all of Arda!” Drauglan bragged, spreading his arms.

“The best in Arda? My, my.” Haldir chuckled. “That is no small ambition, Drauglan. You will have to practise very hard to achieve that.”

“I will,” Drauglan said, as if that was a given. “You will see.”

“Well, why don’t you go and show your bow to Orophin as well?” Haldir suggested, putting the elfling down again. “He is in the kitchen.”

Drauglan made a dash for the kitchen, which gave Haldir the opportunity to welcome the two ellith properly. Cordial greetings and a few jests were exchanged with Inis, whom Filanna was admiring more and more for the natural confidence she displayed in life and, more specifically, in her dealings with the other sex. If only she could have just a little of that, what a difference that would make.

When Inis stepped away, Haldir’s eye fell on Filanna... and stayed there.

“Hello, Haldir,” Filanna said timidly, bracing herself inwardly for the joke or flirty remark that would doubtlessly follow.

“Good evening, princess,” he said, but the amusement she had expected to hear was absent. “May I?” He took her hand and kissed it lightly. “You look lovely, Filanna.”

Filanna was too stunned to even blush. Just when she had prepared herself for the most excessive flirting and jesting, he caught her off-guard with such lovely gallantry. Whether he did it on purpose she did not know, but somehow Haldir always managed to do the completely unexpected.

“May I invite you both to table?” he continued. “Dinner will be served shortly, that is if my brother doesn’t mess things up. Can I offer you a drink? Wine?”

Not long thereafter, while Haldir uncorked a bottle of red, Orophin came in carrying a steaming casserole, and he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Filanna. “Bless my soul! Inis, who is your friend? Introduce us this instant!”

Inis laughed. Filanna blushed and glanced at Haldir, who stood pouring the wine with a smile on his face. “Be careful, Orophin,” he said. “A lot of work and time went into that dish; you don’t want to drop it at the very last moment.”

“True enough.” Orophin put the casserole on the table, took off the oven mittens and accepted the goblet of wine Haldir gave him. “Brother,” he said, raising it, “I propose we drink to the lovely company we are blessed with tonight. I dare say not many ellyn are luckier than we are right now.”

Haldir smiled, his gaze shifting from Inis to Filanna. It seemed he was going to say something, but he did not get the chance because Drauglan, who had followed Orophin from the kitchen, spoke first.

“What about me?” the boy asked. He was trying to look extremely innocent but a sparkle of mischief was in his eye. “Can I have some wine too?”

“No!” Inis, Haldir and Orophin said as one elf.

“Oh, why do children want to grow up so fast?” Orophin said dramatically. “Get the minor in our company some juice, Haldir.”

Filanna laughed, and as she joined the toast the thought occurred to her that if there would be more days like today, being a Galadhel for a little while could prove to be much more fun than she had originally thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mellon nîn = my friend  
> meldis = (female) friend  
> ion= son


	9. The Stakes Of The Game

Filanna was back at work early the following morning, shovelling straw and pushing wheelbarrows around as if it was second nature to her. The idea of doing this kind of labor would likely fill most ellith with horror, but Filanna, who had grown up in a clean, organized and protected environment, where even a broken nail could cause uproar and drama, loved every moment of it. Here she could make herself useful and get dirty and not care about the protocol or the family’s good name. She had every reason to be content, especially today, because she had had a really good time at Orophin’s dinner party the night before. Those issues with her wardrobe had almost put a hex on the evening, but everything had worked out quite well in the end. Thank the Valar for Inis. Filanna did not know what she would have done without the help of her resolute new friend.

Frankly, Filanna had not expected to enjoy herself all that much. After all, the others were all old friends and she felt like an intruder, but to her surprise they didn't treat her like one. She may not have been the most talkative person at the table, but she had felt comfortable enough to join actively in the conversation. The wine had also been helpful in loosening her tongue, of course, although she had a high resistance to alcohol. She was a Mirkwood elf, and wine had always been intricately intertwined with the Mirkwood culture. It took more than a couple of glasses to get her under the table.

Her other fear, embodied by Haldir and his sharp wit, had proven to be unfounded as well, for he had been most courteous throughout the evening, both to her and to Inis. Orophin had not been spared, but the two brothers were well matched and clearly enjoyed provoking and baiting each other. It made their interaction a fascinating and highly entertaining thing to witness, and more than once Filanna was reminded of her own brothers, who also teased each other constantly. Apparently it was a universal phenomenon.

At some point during the evening it had started to rain again. It was a gentle spring shower and they paid it little heed, until a suspicious dripping sound inside the room caught their attention. They glanced around, trying to determine its source, when all of a sudden Orophin leaped up as if bitten by something and rushed into the kitchen, returning almost immediately with a pail in his hands.

“Please tell me this is not what it seems,” Haldir said as they watched Orophin hurry to one of the corners of the room.

“Just a small leak, brother,” Orophin said as he placed the pail directly under the spot where rain water was seeping through the roof. “I haven’t yet gotten around to repairing it.”

“Because you were too busy doing... what exactly?” Haldir asked skeptically. “For shame, Orophin, I knew this place was in need of repairs, but this is unacceptable. Doesn't it embarrass you to receive lady guests in this sorry excuse for a house?” He indicated Filanna and Inis with a nod of his head.

Orophin grinned as he filled the pail with some cloth to make the dripping sound less intrusive. “I haven’t had any complaints so far. But if it eases your mind to hear it, brother, I do intend to renovate this place, starting with the roof.”

“And when will this ambitious project have its commencement?” Haldir inquired. “Let me venture a guess: when snow falls on Summer Solstice and every rooster in Lórien lays a golden egg.”

Orophin laughed. “Your faith in me is heartwarming, Haldir. What has made you such a skeptic?”

“Being your brother for more than a thousand years,” Haldir replied. “Now sit down and eat, before the meal you so laboriously prepared for us gets cold.”

Orophin rolled his eyes theatrically, making Filanna and Inis burst out in giggles. “Haldir, it is bad enough that you can freely order me around at the fences. Now you start doing it in my own house too?”

“This is not a house,” Haldir said dryly. “It bears a resemblance to one, but is in fact no more than a structure of planks held together by three nails and dumb luck. It is draughty and as leaky as a basket and how you can bear to live here is a mystery to me.”

“You know, Haldir,” Inis said slyly, “if your brother’s living situation truly concerns you this much, you may want to stop complaining about it and offer to help him with the renovations instead.”

Haldir smiled. “I would gladly do that, Inis, did I not know for a certainty that I would come to regret it dearly. In the end _I_ would be the one doing most of the work, donating my time and energy without getting anything in return. I would have to drag him out of his lazy chair time after time and be called a slave driver for it.”

“You speak as though from experience,” Filanna observed.

“Oh, I could give you a few examples, princess,” he said, “but since we have come together to have a pleasant evening, I will not bore you with tales from the past.”

“My poor, traumatized brother.” Orophin, who had come back to the table, leaned down and embraced Haldir from behind, secretly winking at Filanna and Inis. “And yet you still put up with me, in spite of all my flaws.”

Haldir gave a lopsided smile, tolerating the show of affection. “Yes, is brotherly love not a beautiful thing?”

All in all, the evening had yielded some amusing memories indeed, and Filanna had an almost constant smile on her face as she occupied herself with the items Felegron had given her for cleaning. Because it was an exceptionally fair morning, she had decided to take this particular task outside, where she could bask in the sunshine and enjoy the fragrant spring breeze while she worked. The pleasure of being outside increased her productivity, and she hummed a little tune to herself as she sat cross-legged on the carpet of young grass, polishing stirrups and bridles and spreading them out on an old horse blanket to let them dry.

So engrossed was she in the activity that she did not notice the approaching elf until he halted directly in front of her, casting a long shadow on the ground. She looked up, only to discover that Haldir was gazing down at her, hands behind his back and a smile upon his lips.

“Haldir,” she said, somewhat startled to see the elf who had been part of her reminiscences so suddenly materialized in front of her. He looked ready for the fences, dressed in his uniform and fully armed, his bow – oh, that magnificent bow! – on his back together with his quiver. This was how he had looked when she first met him, not far from where she was sitting now. Only two weeks had gone by since then, but how much had already changed in that short time!

“That is not happiness to see me,” he observed, but the sparkle in his eyes told her that he was, in conformity with his habit, teasing her.

“You surprised me, that is all,” she said, and narrowing her eyes against the bright sunlight she gave him a smile. “I thought you would be long gone by now. Did you not say last night that you wished to leave early, before daybreak?”

“That was indeed my intention,” he said. “Unfortunately I was delayed, but on horseback I can make up for the lost time.”

“It is a lovely day for a ride,” she agreed. “I would surely go for one myself if I did not have to work today.”

He smiled. “Regrets already?”

“Oh no,” she assured him, “I am enjoying the work very much.”

“That I can see, and I am glad to hear it.” He glanced at the blanket and the shiny objects on it, the product of her industry. “So you _are_ a stable maid now...” His mouth curved into a mysterious smile.

She raised an eyebrow, not understanding the remark. “Does that amuse you?”

“Only because I assumed you were one when I first saw you,” he said. “Yes, I find the irony of it quite amusing.”

“What?” This new piece of information had her frowning. “You thought I was a stable maid when we first met?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you are offended by that. Was I supposed to recognize you as a princess at first glance? Your clothing and mannerisms don’t exactly scream royalty, Filanna.”

“I know that.” She lowered her eyes, forced to admit that he had a point.

“I realized my mistake the same evening,” he continued, “or perhaps I should say that Orophin rubbed my nose in it. He was rather smug about knowing something that I did not.”

She smiled. “Oh? Why was that?”

“Because it is usually the other way around.” He gave one of those disarming smiles that both he and his youngest brother had mastered to perfection. “Are you angry with me, princess?”

She looked away to hide her amusement. Valar, she was growing soft. When he was being so gallant and pleasant, when he smiled at her like that, she felt her resistance crumble. Once or twice she had even caught herself feeling flattered when he paid her a compliment. Apparently she wasn’t so different from other females after all.

“No, Haldir,” she said, “I am not angry with you, as you very well know.”

“Do I?” He smiled. “Don’t be so sure, princess. You are a very difficult elleth to interpret.”

Slightly embarrassed by the comment, she rose to her feet, slapping the grass off her clothes. “I should not keep you any longer. I will go and harness your horse.”

He shook his head. “No need for that, Filanna. I will send my horse back to the city once I have arrived at the frontier post, and bridle and saddle will only be a hindrance then.”

As they entered the stables, Haldir explained, “It is not our custom to keep horses at the border. We usually have a few, in case urgent messages need to be carried to the city, but it is just not convenient to have a horse for every warrior there. During skirmishes or enemy invasions they would only be in the way, not to mention form an easy target for enemy arrows.”

“So,” Filanna said slowly, “when you return to the city, you...”

“... Walk, yes,” he completed with a smile. “And why not? It is a nice hike. You should try it sometime. There are certain things you cannot do when you have a horse with you.”

“Like what?”

“Like climbing Oromë’s Cliff, for example, or exploring Cabed-en-Amlug, the Gorge of the Dragon.”

“I have never heard of those places,” Filanna said. “Are they in Lórien? I thought Orophin had shown me just about everything.”

“I highly doubt that. But if you asked him, I am sure he would take you out to see the less accessible places.”

“Or perhaps _you_ should,” she said impulsively.

He gave her a sidelong glance, not responding right away. “If you wish it.”

Filanna bit her lip, taken aback by her own spontaneity. Asking Haldir to take her on an outing, what on earth had possessed her to do that? Was he not the very elf whose company she had tried to avoid all this time? On the other hand, this was exactly the kind of cowardly behaviour she had decided to weed out. And had he not been utterly charming and pleasant the night before? She really had to stop thinking of him as her enemy.

“Yes, why not?” she therefore said.

“Why not indeed.” He was surveying her thoughtfully, an indecipherable half smile on his lips. “But it will have to wait until the night temperatures allow for outdoor camping.”

Filanna blinked once, then a second time. “Outdoor camping?”

“Of course.” Haldir spoke casually, but looked rather smug. “Some of those locations are quite remote, and we will be on foot, remember? We would be away from the city for several days.”

Filanna made a face. Wonderful, what had she gotten herself into this time? Admittedly, the expedition in itself sounded like just the thing for her, but several days - and nights - of being continuously in Haldir’s company? That might just be a little too much.

Haldir grinned. “Your enthusiasm is waning fast I see. Well, you don’t have to decide right here and now. Just think upon it for a while.”

They had reached the pen housing Haldir’s horse, a stunning mare with a flaming chestnut coat, flaxen mane and a gentle character.

“This is my trusted steed,” Haldir said, petting the mare. “Her name is...”

“Tinwë, I know,” Filanna said. “We have already met, but I didn’t know she was yours.”

Somewhat awkwardly she watched him open the door to the pen and talk to his horse affectionately. Without a task to do, she felt a little empty-handed, redundant even, but she waited until he was done preparing Tinwë and accompanied him back outside.

“How long will you be gone?” she asked him timidly as they halted in the shade of a mallorn tree. Tinwë shook her head and whinnied softly, expressing her eagerness to get on the road. Yet she responded well to Haldir’s touch.

“Three weeks, give or take. Such is the usual routine: three weeks of patrol duty followed by two weeks of furlough.”

She nodded and opened her mouth to wish him a good journey, but he acted first, cupping her chin in his fingers unexpectedly.

“Be good, princess,” he said quietly, a teasing sparkle in his eye. He lowered his hand before she could find the wits to protest or react in any way and mounted his horse with a single, powerful leap. “I will see you in a few weeks.”

“Goodbye, Haldir,” she murmured, and watching him take off she wondered whether she should feel relieved that he was leaving. One could say about Haldir what one wished, but he did have a way of livening things up.

“Haldir?” she called out suddenly.

He halted Tinwë and turned slightly, giving her a questioning look. She struggled for something to say, not sure why she had called him, and spoke the first words that came to mind. “Be careful out there.”

A response did not come right away, and when she glanced up at him she saw that he was looking at her with an odd expression on his face. She blushed and thought that it would be quite convenient if the earth opened now and swallowed her whole. Good gracious, she sounded like a mother sending one of her sons off to the front.

“I will,” he said eventually, and after giving her a last cryptic look he was off in the direction of the city gates, leaving Filanna no other option than to go back to work with a sigh and to ponder her latest blunder.

That afternoon, having finished all her tasks, Filanna went home and took a long bath to replace the smell of horse droppings and old straw with that of spring flowers. Eventually she got out of the water, dried herself and wrapped the towel about her, going into the parlor in search for something to wear. In passing, she threw a despairing glance at the chock-full laundry basket. She would have to tackle that problem, and soon.

She went from the parlor into her bedchamber and opened her wardrobe in the knowledge that she would find very little there. Her eye fell on the green dress and after a moment’s hesitation she pulled it out on its hanger. Desperate times called for desperate measures-- but at least her mother would have been pleased.

She got dressed and put on the slippers Inis had so generously loaned her. They would do for now, but she would have to look into getting a pair of her own, and a new pair of boots wouldn’t be a superfluous luxury either.

After a quick lunch, it was time to head out again and meet Inis to have her measurements taken. Inis had very kindly offered to make her some new tunics and leggings, but when Filanna asked what she could do in return, Inis had refused and stood her ground, saying that this was her service in return for Drauglan’s archery lessons.

When Inis opened the front door, Filanna was surprised to hear sounds of laughter and conversation filtering through from inside, indicating that Inis already had visitors.

“Filanna, hello.” Inis’s welcoming smile was, as usual, radiant, as was her bright orange dress.

“Hello, Inis.” Filanna glanced over the older elleth’s shoulder. “Do you have other guests?”

“Ah, yes, as a matter of fact I do.” Inis gave Filanna an apologetic smile. “When I invited you, I didn’t realize that your visit would coincide with a tea party I am giving for my lady friends. I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, I see. Never mind, I’ll come back later.”

“No, no, don’t be silly.” Inis opened the door wider. “Come in and join us. We can have a cup of tea before we get to work.”

Filanna did not like this idea at all. Meeting Inis’s friends? She was not prepared for that! “I probably shouldn’t,” she protested weakly. “I really don’t want to intrude...”

“You are not intruding, strange elleth that you are.” Inis laughed and beckoned her inside. “Come on! My friends would love to meet you.”

Filanna hesitated, but she knew perfectly well that there was no way to back out of this. She would have to go in and face a doubtlessly critical jury of strange females, a daunting prospect that made her curse her decision to wear the dress.

Inis was still looking at her questioningly, so Filanna braced herself inwardly and stepped over the threshold, banishing her inhibitions to the farthest corner of her mind. If she gave in to cowardice now, she would definitely not make a good first impression.

In Inis’s sitting room, a group of four ellith was gathered round a low salon table and engaged in animated conversation. Two were sitting on the divan, the two others on cushions on the floor, their skirts spread out elegantly about them. The talking ceased quite abruptly when Filanna entered, and all four of them turned to look at the elleth in the green dress, who stood in the middle of the room uncertainly.

“Hello,” she said, and carefully surveying the faces that were turned toward her she tried to determine what type of friends Inis had. They were all pretty, of course; one silver-haired like Inis herself, two platinum-blond and one--

Filanna froze unconsciously when her eyes met those of the fourth elleth. Good Lord Eru, it was _her_ : the pretty redhead Haldir had left the party with on her first evening in Caras Galadhon.

“Everyone, this is Filanna,” said Inis, who came up behind her. She pointed at each of the ellith, making the introductions. “These are Gwenél, Aelwen, Mereniel – but we call her Meren – and Bereth.”

“Hello,” the quartet said more or less simultaneously.

“So you are Filanna,” the silver-haired one, Gwenél, said. “Inis has told us about you.”

“Sit down, have some tea,” one of the blonde ellith (Aelwen? Or Mereniel?) said invitingly. “Inis, do you have another cushion?”

“Or would you rather sit here?” the blonde on the sofa said. “Bereth and I can make room for a third.”

Filanna finally managed to tear her eyes away from Bereth, who had not spoken so far and was looking back at her with a kind, but somewhat puzzled smile.

“Er, no,” Filanna said, forcing herself to concentrate on the things that were being said to her, “on the floor is fine.”

An extra cup of tea was poured, and once Filanna had seated herself more or less gracefully on the cushion Inis had fetched for her, the inquisition could begin. If Filanna had feared that her appearance might be cause for any uncomfortable silences to occur, she couldn’t have been more wrong. The women were quite cordial and seemed genuinely interested in her background, asking her all kinds of questions. Bereth was the least talkative, but she appeared to be listening attentively, bent forward on the edge of the sofa, a hand supporting her chin. She was dressed in an elegant white gown with a low neckline that showed off the fullness of her breasts to good advantage, her eyes were grey and intelligent and her hair spilled over her shoulders in luxurious curls. There was no denying it: the elleth was a sensual beauty, and, by the looks of her, not even that aware of it at all. Valar, how annoying.

Filanna soon discovered that the two blonde ellith, Mereniel and Aelwen, were different as night and day. While the latter was a giggly creature, with sparkling eyes and charming dimples in her cheeks, Mereniel was older and of a more level-headed nature. She had an expressive face and a dry sense of humor that leaned towards cynicism, and there was something in her face that told Filanna that this elleth, like Inis, was resolute and not to be messed with. Filanna liked her instantly.

And then there was Gwenél, a sweet and delicate puppet of an elleth with dreamy eyes and the endearing tendency to believe everything that was said to her. Because of this she was teased a lot by her friends, a fate she bore good-naturedly and with a healthy amount of self-scorn. But as she observed the interactions within the group, Filanna soon learned that despite being soft-spoken and modest, Gwenél was perfectly able to stand up for herself if necessary, proving once again that first impressions could be deceptive. This elleth was no fool.

“I also enjoy shooting a few arrows from time to time,” she timidly confessed to Filanna when the topic of discussion was archery and Filanna’s prowess in that department. “But I am not at all good at it. My arrows are more likely to hit innocent bystanders than the object I am actually aiming at.”

“Has it been a long time since you had lessons?” Filanna inquired.

“I have never had any. I am entirely self-taught.” Gwenél blushed when she saw the expression on Filanna’s face. “I know, that is not a good thing, is it?”

“Er, no.” Filanna quickly banned the mental image of startled Galadhrim ducking left and right to dodge Gwenél’s stray arrows. The elleth probably had an abominable stance, and no archer could hope to reach even the lowest level of adequacy without a good, consistent form.

“I have no brothers, you see,” Gwenél explained. “And my father never took the trouble to teach any of his daughters some archery.”

“Well, I practise frequently in the evening hours,” Filanna said. “Come with me sometime, if you want to. I might be able to give you some helpful tips...”

She wavered and let her voice trail off, wondering if she sounded pretentious and feeling repulsed by the idea. She didn’t normally flaunt her skills, but this offer had come out so spontaneously and with such unusual confidence that it sounded grotesquely arrogant to Filanna’s ears. Her audience seemed to interpret it differently, however, and Gwenél’s response was one of gratitude and excitement.

“Oh Filanna, would you really do that?” The elleth reached out and touched Filanna’s arm spontaneously, a gesture that almost made Filanna flinch. Physical contact with strangers was something she always shied away from. It was an involuntary and uncontrollable reaction, as if her body rejected the touch of another, no matter how innocent. She had no idea why; it certainly wasn’t due to a lack of cuddles in her childhood, because her parents had always been very generous with their affection.

“Of course,” she assured Gwenél. “I would be happy to help.”

Gwenél beamed, and Filanna felt strangely pleased for having made someone else this happy. The other ellith smiled and drank their tea as if it was perfectly normal that she was sitting here on this sunny afternoon, having tea and exchanging pleasantries with people she had never met before today. And suddenly a thought occurred to her: they had no idea. They had no idea how nervous she was, how awkward she felt, how hard she was trying to fit in. They saw only an interesting elleth from a different realm, an elleth with some unusual hobbies perhaps, but still, an elleth just like them. They had heard that she had some skill with bow and arrow and they simply accepted it, trusted her expertise without ever having seen her in action. And, most surprising of all, they didn’t seem to judge her at all.

Filanna took in the faces around her, puzzled by these insights. To have acquired the respect of her peers without having had to prove herself in any way was more than she could wrap her mind around. And yet a voice inside her head, that suspicious little voice that would not be silenced, tried to make her believe that it was somehow Inis’s doing, that Inis had instructed her friends to be nice to her.

 _“Girls, Filanna will be joining our little party later on,”_ her friend might have told the other ellith earlier. _“She’s an odd creature, but let’s all try to give her a chance, shall we?”_

Filanna wrinkled her nose and, quite unexpectedly, felt the overwhelming urge to giggle. Elbereth, how was that for being paranoid? Clearly her imagination was running away with her again. Inis had groomed her hair and loaned her a brand new pair of slippers, all for the sake of making a good impression on two of Lórien’s finest bachelors. If that wasn’t the very definition of a friend, then what was?

“It just occurred to me that Prince Rínion is your brother,” Aelwen said with one of her trademark giggles, and she blushed. Filanna noted that it was a becoming, maidenly blush, one rosy bloom on each cheek, quite unlike the bright shade of beetroot her own face assumed when she blushed.

“He sure is,” Filanna said, not knowing what else to say.

“He is very good-looking,” Aelwen continued keenly, not making a secret of her appreciation of Filanna’s eldest brother. Gwenél and Inis nodded in agreement. Aelwen became flustered, and she covered her flushed cheeks with her hands. “But oh, please don’t tell him I said that!”

“I don’t intend to,” Filanna said. “He is too aware of the effect he has on our sex already. If he becomes any more arrogant, he will make it impossible for any elleth to stand him.”

The maidens sniggered conspiratorially, familiar as they all were with over-confident males. Filanna felt a surge of triumph, thrilled that this intimate little moment between females was caused by something she had said.

“Still,” Bereth said, “a certain amount of arrogance can be appealing.” Her low, husky voice was as sensual as the rest of her appearance. The others reacted with agreeing nods and hums, except Filanna, who was frowning. _Well, you would be the one to know, wouldn’t you?_

She felt ashamed almost at once. She hated herself when she was being so sour and spiteful, even in the privacy of her own thoughts, and for what? Yes, Bereth was pretty and elegant and everything Filanna was not, but the same could be said of the others. And yet she felt this sting of irritation only when she looked at Bereth. It made no sense-- she had only just met the elleth, and she knew nothing about her except that she had warmed Haldir’s bed at least once. What was the deal with that relationship, anyway? Earlier on, when Mereniel pointed out that they were all eligible bachelorettes, Bereth had nodded with the same ardor as the others, before getting into a lively debate with Aelwen and Gwenél about the respective merits of each of the Imladris twins. If she hadn’t already slept with them, some of her comments suggested that she would do so in a heartbeat if the opportunity arose.

So perhaps that was where the shoe pinched. Clearly the relations between Haldir and Bereth were born from lust, not love, and it seemed more than likely that Bereth, like Haldir, found her pleasure in more than one bed. This was something Filanna did not understand. Why would Bereth sleep with Haldir if she did not love him? Or vice versa? Were love and complete trust not absolute requirements for lovemaking? Filanna had no experience in that field, but she couldn’t picture herself participating in casual sex, not now and not ever. If she ever was to lose her virginity, it would have to be with someone she really trusted and was comfortable with, someone truly special. As it was, she had never experienced the feeling of being in love, and that was probably for the best.

At the end of all her pondering, Filanna decided that since there was no valid reason to bear a grudge against Bereth, she would give the elleth a chance; a decision she came to regret not much later when she asked the women for directions to the nearest laundry pool. Bereth replied that she had to do her laundry as well and proposed that they would go together.

“Tonight, after dinner?” she suggested, mistakenly attributing Filanna’s lack of enthusiasm to the prospect of laundering. “I am not looking forward to it either, Filanna. But misery loves company.”

“Well…” Filanna sighed and hoisted the white flag. “I guess tonight works for me.”

xxx

“I hate to disturb your daydreams, brother, but those dice won’t throw themselves.”

Haldir, who had been absorbed in the sight of his own fingers playing idly with the dice, turning the two little cubes round and round, mumbled an apology and sat up a little straighter. He shook the dice in one hand and gave them a none-too-enthusiastic roll, knowing full well that this game was already lost, just like the two before it.

He had arrived at the fences this afternoon, heard the reports and come to the conclusion that all was quiet here at the northern border. It was now well past sundown, and Haldir, knowing these parts to be patrolled by his best scouts, ready to sound the alarm if necessary, had retreated to one of the flets with Rúmil to kill some time with a game. However, two losses and a third in the making proved that he was not in a winning mood tonight, and the hoped-for diversion wasn’t found either.

“Have I gotten better at this,” Rúmil had said after his second win, “or has the Lady Luck left your side for once, Haldir? That would certainly be a first, as females tend to stick to you like glue.”

Haldir, who was feeling restless and frustrated, responded with a grimace. “Don’t flatter yourself, Rúmil, you play as abominably as always. But my luck is indeed failing me, so perhaps I should cut my losses and call it a night.”

“Cut your losses?” Rúmil gazed at Haldir incredulously. “Brother, are you ill? Where is your sense of competition?”

Haldir shrugged. “I am feeling magnanimous today.”

“Oh, _really_?” Rúmil leaned forward, smiling sardonically. “All right brother, confess. Something is amiss, and don't bother denying it. You can’t hide anything from me, you know.”

“A bold statement.” Haldir smiled, not the least bit tempted to confide in his sibling. “You are overestimating yourself, brother, yet again.”

“Shh.” Rúmil raised his hands and closed his eyes as if in utter concentration. “I am picking up... female vibrations. Could that be correct?”

“Possibly.” Haldir remained nonchalant. “For your information, I have not been without female company these past two weeks, Rúmil. It is the prospect of being without it for the upcoming three that I am not looking forward to.”

“Ah, that I can understand.” Rúmil lowered his hands, giving Haldir a sympathetic grin. “I am quite relieved myself that my shift ends soon. But what better way to distract ourselves from that itch than another game? Your luck may yet turn, Haldir.”

Haldir had conceded, for no other reason than to avoid further questions. Oh, Rúmil would hear about Filanna soon enough, for Haldir did not doubt that Orophin would be more than happy to fill Rúmil in on the latest developments, but until then Haldir would not feel at all remorseful about leaving Rúmil’s ignorance intact.

Haldir sighed, annoyed with himself. He never complained about border duty and its inconveniences, but by Eru, the timing was really particularly unfortunate this time. Now that Filanna was finally warming up to him a little bit, he had to wait another three weeks before he could continue pressing that advantage. Not that he believed his chances had substantially improved, but at least she no longer looked at him as though she was seeing something dirty and despicable. Haldir had accepted the fact that he would probably never have her, could live with the idea of never being allowed to touch her the way he wanted to; but at the same time he could not bear the thought of someone else putting so much as a finger on her. It seemed unlikely that this would happen anytime soon, given Filanna’s apparent dislike of men in general, but sitting here at the border, where he could not keep an eye on her, fuelled concerns that were not necessarily rational.

He was not himself around this girl. He had walked her home the night before, and by the time he bade her goodnight at her front door, he had been hoping against hope that she would ask him to stay. Valar, how he had longed to kiss that lovely mouth, but he knew that all of his efforts, every grain of her trust that he had so laboriously won, would be undone if he gave in to that longing. When he walked away from her, his blood heated by alcohol and lust, he had decided to seek sexual gratification elsewhere. He usually slept alone the last night before border duty, for the sake of starting his shift fit and well rested, but this time he had thrown his principles to the wind and poured out his frustration between the legs of another. This in itself was bad enough, but he hadn’t even taken the time to consider his options, instead going to the elleth whose talan was closest by. It was all highly unusual for him, and this morning, when he stood dressing himself at the break of dawn, he had even given in to the elleth’s pleas and let himself be pulled back into bed for more of the same. That and that alone had been the cause of the delay and the reason he’d had to make the journey on horseback. It was pure irony that this had allowed him to see Filanna one more time before he left.

Haldir sighed. No, he was definitely not proud of what he had done; it had never happened before and it would not happen again, but there was no denying that the princess had gotten under his skin somehow. It was painfully obvious that she did not care for him and yet he could not stay away from her company, because he enjoyed being near her and teasing her until she smiled. A smile or kind word from her could make his day. And what to think of the inexplicable chagrin he felt when he pictured her being lured into someone else’s bed? It just wasn’t like him. He had never begrudged another male a beautiful elleth.

Haldir rolled the dice a little too violently. One of them bounced away and came to rest at a small distance from the talan’s edge. Rúmil sighed and went to fetch it.

 _Be careful,_ Filanna had said to him that morning, a comment he had been brooding on ever since. It had struck a chord in him, probably because she was the very last person he had expected to show concern for his well-being.

Haldir shrugged mentally. These musings were leading nowhere. He could win her trust, perhaps even her friendship, but she had made it very clear that she didn’t feel in the least attracted to him. Did he not feel her shudder every time he touched her? Oh, the irony of it. Here was an elleth he wanted to thrill with his touch, and she recoiled from it as if it were the most disgusting, detestable thing in the world. And instead of turning his attention elsewhere, as he had always done, he felt his longing grow along with his frustration. It was as if the Valar were playing some kind of game with him, a cruel game he had to play, whether he wanted to or not.

“Ha-haa!” Rúmil’s victory yell startled him from his thoughts. His brother had moved his last piece and raised his arms in triumph. “That makes the tally three-nil, brother. Oh, the brilliance of me!”

Even though he couldn’t care less about losing, Haldir feigned disappointment for his brother’s sake, shrugging off his gloomy thoughts. He had never wallowed in self-pity over a female’s rejection before and he sure as Mordor wasn’t going to start now. There were other, more important things to attend to, especially in these parts, where even the smallest distraction could have disastrous consequences. Haldir took his responsibilities very seriously, and he simply couldn’t afford to be pining for some elleth when there was a task to be done. He had to forget her, had to weed out these confusing thoughts before they ran away with him, and he trusted that three weeks of border duty would be more than enough to achieve that goal.

For the sake of his own peace of mind, he ignored the nasty little voice inside his head that said, _And what if they are not, Haldir? And what if they are not?_


	10. What Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

As the days went by, Filanna settled into her new routine with an ease that surprised herself. Every day she would get up with the first ray of light, scrape together some breakfast and walk the already familiar route to the stables for her morning shift. It was hard work, and with Felegron in charge, slacking was out of the question, but she did not complain. She enjoyed every moment spent with the horses, and she knew that her body would grow accustomed to the physical demands of the job.

Her afternoons were free. She visited the archery field frequently and had developed a fondness for long reading sessions on the shaded balcony of her talan. And then there were of course the daily chores to be done. The responsibility of running her own little household was new to her, and it was a steep learning curve, but it was a challenge she welcomed. For the first time in her life she was independent, doing things by herself without the constraints of protocol-- what could be more gratifying than that?

There was only one thing that really bothered her. She had discovered that she was an absolutely terrible cook, something she was greatly embarrassed by and wouldn’t gladly admit to anyone. She had the tools and the recipes, but none of her attempts had yielded an acceptable result so far. It was very discouraging, but she had not yet found the nerve to ask any of her new friends for help.

Far more successful were her attempts at teaching Drauglan the basics of archery. She did not yet feel completely comfortable in the role of teacher, but Drauglan was an eager student and gave her no trouble at all, just as Orophin had predicted. His progress went by leaps and bounds, and Filanna found no small amount of pride in the knowledge that she was contributing to that, that she was actually capable of imparting some of her skills to another person.

And as if all this wasn't enough, she had made some new friends to boot. After that first afternoon with Inis and the others, they appeared to have adopted her as a new member of the circle, for when the next tea party was announced to take place at Mereniel’s talan, Filanna too received an invitation. She was both surprised and thrilled to have been accepted so easily.

It seemed unlikely, however, that she would ever really become friends with Bereth. Their conversations remained somewhat superficial, and Filanna still felt awkward in Bereth’s presence. More than once she had caught Bereth looking at her thoughtfully with those intelligent grey eyes of hers, eyes that seemed capable of reading her mind like a book. It made Filanna nervous; obviously Bereth had some thoughts of her own about her, but what they were remained frustratingly unclear. Then again, in her behaviour Bereth was never anything but friendly and gracious, and her kindness did not seem insincere. It was rather puzzling, and in truth, Filanna really couldn’t decide what to think of Haldir’s pretty bedmate.

Other than that, Filanna was quickly becoming very fond of her new friends. Inis held a special place in her heart, of course, but she soon discovered that the elleth she had the most in common with was Gwenél. She was the closest to her in age, and knew the curse of shyness just like Filanna did. But whereas Filanna was rather cynical by nature - a trait she shared with Mereniel - Gwenél was sweet and endearingly naïve. Bitterness and distrust were completely alien to her. And this was not the only difference between them, for despite her shyness, Gwenél was absolutely crazy about males, and about one male in particular. This became very clear to Filanna when she accompanied Gwenél to the archery field one day, and discovered that the presence of a predominantly male public had a detrimental effect on Gwenél’s ability to concentrate.

“Oh, awful,” Gwenél moaned in horror when another of her arrows missed the target by several yards. “That was the worst one so far, I think. I am never going to learn this, am I?”

“Of course you are. You just have to keep trying, and not expect miracles to happen in a single day.” Filanna, who up until then had only been observing Gwenél’s technique – or lack thereof – looked at her embarrassed friend, who was fidgeting and throwing furtive glances at a small group of ellyn standing nearby. “And you really have to try and concentrate a bit more, too,” she added dryly.

“Oh dear.” Gwenél blushed fiercely. “I try to, Filanna, really I do, but those ellyn are making me so nervous. How you manage to stay so calm and focused is beyond me. But then, you are such a good archer, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You even competed with the Marchwarden without losing your nerve; anything is easy for an elleth who can do _that_ , I imagine.”

Filanna raised her eyebrows slightly. “You know about that?”

“Of course! All of Caras Galadhon knows about that. ‘Twas the talk of the day.”

“Really.” Filanna looked skeptical. “Then the Galadhrim must have very little to talk about indeed.”

Gwenél giggled. “The Marchwarden is one of our most popular bachelors. When he is spotted in the company of an exotic princess, more than once even, well... that just gets the rumor mills turning.”

Filanna groaned. “Splendid.”

“It’s just silly gossip, Filanna,” Gwenél said. “There will always be speculations about unattached elves, and most of them are just that-- speculations and guesswork. It’s harmless.” She smiled cheekily. “And you have to admit, Haldir is not a bad match. Countless ellith probably envy you for it.”

“Why would they envy me for something that isn’t even true?”

“Isn’t it? Where there’s smoke, there’s usually fire. He does seem to enjoy spending time with you.”

Filanna snorted. “Methinks Haldir enjoys spending time with any member of the female sex.”

Gwenél laughed at that. “Haldir is not averse to the ladies, that is true, but do not let appearances fool you; he is not as available as many ellith would like.”

Filanna’s attention was piqued at last. “What do you mean?”

“Haldir hasn’t had a serious relationship for, oh, ages,” Gwenél said with a wave of her hand. “I don’t know for how long exactly, but not since I was born, that’s for sure.”

Filanna frowned as she absent-mindedly poked the ground with one tip of her bow. “Really? Why is that, you think?”

“I really couldn’t say. Haldir is very secretive about those things.”

Filanna pondered this for a moment, and decided that she did not find the lack of serious relationships in Haldir’s life very surprising. He had never struck her as the committing type of elf. “Do you think Bereth knows more about it?”

“It’s possible, but I doubt it. And even if she did know, she wouldn’t tell us even if we begged her to. She is very discreet about what she and Haldir do or discuss; in fact she hardly ever talks about him.”

Filanna had noticed that too. A few days ago, during one of the women’s recurring conversations about Lórien’s eligible bachelors, the three brothers had also come up for discussion. Aelwen had made each of her friends confess which of the three they found the most attractive, ignoring Mereniel’s eye roll and turning straight to Bereth.

“We already know your answer, of course,” she teased.

Bereth had given a lopsided smile. “Do you?”

“Oh come, drop the act of innocence. It is no secret that Haldir avails himself of your services frequently.”

“Even though you never tell us about him,” Gwenél added in an accusatory tone of voice.

“Yes indeed.” Mereniel smirked. “How much longer _are_ you going to keep us on tenterhooks, Bereth? We are all dying to know more about the Marchwarden’s... skills.”

“Speak for yourself there, please, Meren,” Inis interjected. “Haldir is a good friend of mine and I have no desire whatsoever to hear about his achievements between the sheets, thank you.”

Filanna, who had been thinking more or less the same thing, inwardly cheered for Inis, grateful for the intervention. Bereth gave Inis a quick smile and lightly chided the others, “My dear friends, everyone is entitled to a little privacy. Are you familiar with the concept? Please, find yourselves an ellon to vent your sexual frustrations on and leave me in peace.”

“Boring,” Aelwen said with a sigh.

“And can we now have a more mature conversation, please?” Inis said. “Just think what kind of impression we must be making on Filanna.”

To this Filanna had to object. The last thing she wanted her new friends to think was that she couldn’t handle topics like these. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I have three older brothers, remember? I am used to worse talk than this.”

“Wonderful,” Aelwen said with a grin. “You haven’t answered the question yet, Filanna. Which one is your favourite?”

Filanna blushed, realizing that she had called this upon herself. “Orophin, I suppose,” she reluctantly replied. This was only partially true, for although she was indeed the most fond of the youngest brother, the most handsome of the three he was not. She was, however, not going to admit that in the presence of Bereth.

“But,” she added, “I cannot judge fairly, at least not yet. I have met Rúmil only once so far, and very briefly.”

“Oh, Rúmil is a dear,” Aelwen said. “Very much a gentleman, very attentive, well-spoken and witty.”

“They all are witty,” Inis corrected.

“It runs in the family, that is true. They are brothers, but they are also quite different. Which of course makes them all the more interesting. Something for every elleth, I’d almost say.” Aelwen, who clearly was in her element, erupted in giggles. “Rúmil is the most modest one of the trio, I think. He lacks Haldir’s arrogance, and Orophin’s boisterousness.”

“Rúmil is very lovable,” Mereniel agreed. “I like him very much, but he is too much of a dreamer for my tastes.”

“I don’t mind that.” Gwenél, who had been quiet for some time, blushed. “I wouldn’t want him to change for anything in the world.”

“Of course not, for why change what is already perfect, eh Gwenél?” Aelwen teased her friend.

Gwenél blushed even harder, but she didn’t flinch. “Tease me as much as you like. I am not ashamed of my fondness for him.”

Mereniel saw Filanna’s look of bewilderment and explained, “Gwenél has been singing that tune for years. It’s always Rúmil this, Rúmil that; it’s enough to drive one crazy, I tell you. We’ve told her thousands of times to do something about that infatuation, but for some unclear reason she seems to prefer secret adoration from afar.”

“But we keep hoping that one day she’ll find her courage and tell Rúmil how fondly her little heart beats for him,” Aelwen said, patting Gwenél’s shoulder.

“Oh, never, oh never!” Gwenél covered her fiery red cheeks with her hands. “I would die if he found out!”

Aelwen opened her mouth to say more, at which point Inis intervened. “That’s quite enough, Aelwen,” she said with that natural, calm authority Filanna so admired.

“Promise us one thing, Filanna,” Mereniel said. “If you ever find yourself interested in a fellow, please, don’t sit around and wait for things to happen, as Gwenél has been doing all this time. Take matters into your own hands, even if it means you will be rejected. As unpleasant as it may be, it is to be preferred over years of silent suffering.” She glanced at her flustered younger friend. “No male is worth such agony.”

The conversation moved on to other topics after that, and Filanna had soon forgotten about Gwenél’s crush, but coincidentally, it so happened that the elf who was both the cause of Gwenél’s anguish and the object of her admiration arrived at the archery field just as Filanna and Gwenél were practising there. Despite the briefness of their previous encounter, Filanna recognized him at once, and Gwenél, of course, saw him too.

“Oh,” she said quietly as she watched Rúmil being welcomed and cordially greeted by a few other ellyn. The shooting lesson ground to a halt.

“So he is back, then,” Filanna said, rather redundantly.

“Thank the Valar.” Gwenél gave Filanna an apologetic look. “I always worry about him when he is out patrolling with the other wardens. I try not to think of the dangers that lurk out there, but every time a wounded or slain elf is brought back to the city, I cannot help but fear... Do you think me pathetic, Filanna?”

“Being concerned about someone you care for is not pathetic, Gwenél.”

“No, but... I should know better. He does not care about me. He hardly knows my na- oh sweet Elbereth, he is coming this way.”

Filanna stared in fascination at Gwenél’s wide-eyed face, which turned from bright red to ashen white in a matter of seconds. “Is he?”

Gwenél looked as though she was going to pass out. “Oh, and I always say the stupidest things when he talks to me. That is, in the rare case that I manage to say anything at all. Oh, Filanna, you will help me, won’t you? Please, don’t let me make a fool out of myself.”

“But I don’t-” Filanna began, but already Rúmil was within earshot. Smiling pleasantly he approached, bowing slightly once he stood in front of them.

“Good day, Princess Filanna,” he said. “Hello, Gwenél. I didn’t know you were an archer.”

“Hello, Rúmil,” Gwenél squeaked, and although it seemed she wanted to say more, nothing else would come out. She stared helplessly at Rúmil’s face, and it occurred to Filanna that if in all those years Rúmil had never noticed how infatuated with him Gwenél was, he must be either blind or stupid.

“She expressed an interest in the sport,” she said, coming to her friend’s aid. “I offered to show her a few things.”

“I see.” He turned to her with a smile. “The tales of your skills have travelled swiftly, milady. My brother has informed me that you have decided to stay with us a little longer.”

“Has he, indeed?” She smiled at him, taking in his kind, strong-featured face. “And how did you leave Haldir at the border?”

“I left him well.” Her inquiry seemed to surprise him. “But it is my other brother I was referring to.”

“Oh?” Filanna blushed slightly. “I’m sorry, I assumed you meant Haldir.”

“No, it was Orophin who told me the news. Just this morning in fact.” Rúmil smiled again. “I hope you won’t find me insolent if I say that it would please me to get a little better acquainted with the elleth Orophin speaks so warmly of.”

“That would please me also,” Filanna said, but in truth she hardly registered Rúmil’s politely spoken words. “So... you did not know until this morning that I was still in Caras Galadhon?”

“I’m afraid not. Haldir omitted to share that information, which surprises me.”

Filanna said nothing. As a matter of fact, she was surprised as well. Apparently Haldir hadn’t mentioned her to Rúmil at all, for if he had, her presence in Lórien would have come up for sure. She felt a little insulted, even though she knew she hardly had the right. Did she truly think that two wardens of Lothlórien had nothing more important to talk about than a strange, wayward princess like herself? Haldir had probably forgotten all about her the moment he rode out of her sight, and that was fine. She did not think about him that much either. But she had to admit to herself that she was not enjoying life without him as much as she had expected. Perhaps there was some truth in the old proverb that said absence made the heart grow fonder-- but the simple fact was that Caras Galadhon was a more boring place when Haldir was not in it.

“Well,” Rúmil said, interrupting her thoughts. “I will leave you both to continue your practice. It was a pleasure talking to you, milady.”

“It’s Filanna,” she said quickly, knowing from experience that this kind of courtesy was best nipped in the bud. “And the pleasure was mine, Rúmil.”

“Goodbye, Gwenél.” Rúmil smiled at the fidgeting elleth. “Good luck with the training. I am sure you will do well.”

“Goodbye, Rúmil,” Gwenél stammered. “Thank you.”

After Rúmil had left, the two ellith stood in silence for a moment.

“That,” Gwenél said after a little while, “was awful.”

“It was not that bad,” Filanna said, but she didn't sound very convincing.

“Wasn’t it? Hello, goodbye and thank you, that is all I said.” Despite her misery, Gwenél could not help but giggle. “Valar, he must think me retarded.”

“You know, Gwenél,” Filanna said hesitantly, “you probably don’t want to hear this, but Mereniel could have a point. Why not tell him how you feel about him? What have you got to lose?”

Gwenél shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “Nothing, I suppose,” she said softly. “But I am not Mereniel, Filanna. I am not tough like she. If Rúmil rejected me, which is more than likely, my heart would be crushed beyond cure.”

Filanna bit her lip. She had never thought that one day she would be giving someone advice on the matters of the heart, but her new friend was obviously troubled so she could not remain silent. “And what will it do to your heart if Rúmil takes another as his mate one day? Will you then spend the rest of your life wondering what might have been if only you had told him about your feelings?”

“Perhaps,” Gwenél said. “But in my heart I know that it would not make any difference. I stand no chance with him. Rúmil is so old and experienced and gifted. He writes poetry, did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“My point is... Rúmil is destined for someone really special. Someone smart and talented and beautiful. And I am none of those things.”

Filanna’s jaw practically dropped. “Gwenél,” she said, “if I ever hear you say something like that again, I shall personally have to take you over my knee and smack your backside. I may not know you that well yet, but you _are_ special and Rúmil should get down on his knees and thank his lucky star a thousand times for having deserved an elleth like you. If he does not see that, then he is a fool and not worthy of your affection.”

Filanna’s mouth snapped shut abruptly after this little speech. She rarely spoke in such a firm tone of voice, but nothing made her angrier than this submissive, self-deprecating kind of talk from an elleth. She too was guilty of it, she readily admitted that, but no one would ever catch her saying that some male was too good for her. Her self-esteem may be lacking, but she had her pride.

To Filanna’s surprise, Gwenél stepped forward and embraced her warmly. It was not the reaction she had been expecting, but she tolerated it somewhat stiffly, unused to such spontaneous displays of friendship between females.

“Thank you, Filanna,” Gwenél said, pulling back with a smile. “That was a very sweet thing to say.”

“Well, I meant it,” Filanna muttered. “I wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better.”

“I know. And you are right. I should not speak like that.” With a sigh, Gwenél straightened herself and squared her shoulders, as if gathering herself. She then pulled out an arrow, nocked it, aimed and released, too hastily, too inaccurately, but by some miraculous twist of chance, the arrow hit the target in the third ring from the center.

“Look! I did it!” Gwenél beamed, overjoyed with her unexpected little success. She pressed the bow to her chest and hopped excitedly from one foot to another. “Did you see that, Filanna?”

Filanna nodded, smiling. It was one of the luckiest miserable shots she had ever seen, but she was not going to dampen her new friend and student’s joy by pointing that out.

“You see?” she said instead. “I knew you had it in your fingers.”

xxx

Time in Caras Galadhon passed neither slowly nor quickly-- it flowed, calmly, like water in a little brook. Filanna was still painfully aware of being separated from her family, but missing them hurt a little less each day. With so many things to keep her occupied, and so many new things to do and discover, it was impossible to keep pining for what she had left behind.

She rarely saw Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, but when their paths did happen to cross, they always took the time to inquire how she was faring, showing genuine interest in her. One time, Celeborn came to the stables when she was at work there, accompanied by a few wardens Filanna had not seen before. He was dressed in rider’s garb, not his usual robes, and spoke briefly with Felegron, who then gave the task of readying Odaragar to Filanna.

“A fine day for a ride, my lord,” Filanna remarked as she led Odaragar out of his box.

“It is indeed,” Celeborn said kindly. “You seem to be getting along well with my horse, Filanna.”

Filanna blushed at the compliment. “The trust of even the wildest horse can be won with patience and the right approach.”

“That is true, for horses and other creatures alike.” He paused, his gaze resting on Filanna unwaveringly. “Well, it is good to see you have found your footing here. Felegron must be pleased to have you in his team.”

“I am glad for the chance to make myself useful, my lord,” Filanna said earnestly. “The Lady Galadriel was very kind to create this opportunity for me. She could not have made me happier.”

Celeborn smiled. “It will please her to know that.”

When Celeborn and his company of wardens departed shortly afterwards, Filanna slipped out of the stables and climbed the city wall to watch the group ride away from the city, like she had done with Orophin not so long ago. As was to be expected from someone who had a lifetime of experience with wild horses, Celeborn was a sensational rider to watch. He looked every inch the seasoned equestrian he was, confident and in complete control, and made riding Odaragar look simple, which it certainly wasn’t. As she watched him, Filanna caught herself thinking the rather immature thought that if Celeborn hadn’t been married to Galadriel, he would without a doubt have ranked highly on the list of Lórien’s eligible bachelors. He sure looked fine sitting atop his magnificent stallion. Suppressing a giggle, she turned and left her lookout to go back to work.

It was May by now and spring had exploded in Lórien, with temperatures rising and fragrant flowers in a thousand different colours budding. One night, not long after Rúmil’s return to Caras Galadhon, the heat culminated in a spring tempest that raged over the city during the length of an entire night. Filanna lay warmly and comfortably in her bed, but as she listened to the clattering of the rain and the howling of the wind outside, she thought of Orophin and his badly insulated house with the leaky roof. It gave her an idea that could either be brilliant or ludicrous, and she let it ripen for a few days before taking it to Galadriel. To her surprise, the Lady encouraged the initiative, even lent her assistance, and so it happened that one afternoon Filanna found herself on her way to Orophin’s talan, a small procession of wood carriers in her wake.

Orophin greeted her warmly when he answered the door, but was visibly puzzled by the sight of Filanna’s entourage. “What is this?” he asked. “Who are these beefy fellows, and what are they cluttering my porch for?”

“Your talan is hereby proclaimed a danger zone, Orophin,” she replied. “Renovations on this property start today. Lady Galadriel has been so kind as to supply all the necessary requirements. Timber...” She gestured at the quickly growing pile of planks behind her, then at the box at her feet. “... And tools. Enough for the both of us, because if you think for one moment I am going up that roof all by myself, you are wrong.”

Orophin looked from the toolbox up at her, scratching his temple. “Filanna, you cannot be serious. Are you honestly saying-”

“I am very serious,” Filanna said. “One of these days this house is going to collapse around you, and you may be fine with that, but I am not.”

A small smile appeared on Orophin’s still-astonished face. “I appreciate your concern, Filanna, but I am not going to let you do my chores for me. I have more decency than that.”

“Why? Afraid of what the neighbours will say, are you?”

“No, afraid that you will take a fall and break a leg or more,” Orophin said dryly.

“You insult me. I am no less skilled in climbing trees than you are, Orophin. And do you see these?” Filanna raised her hands and held them in front of his face. “These hands know what they are doing. Legolas and I have built dozens of tree houses in our youth, and they were sturdy and durable. I have never fallen out of any of them and I do not shy from a little work either.”

He leaned against the doorframe, studying her attentively. “You really are a most peculiar elleth, do you know that?” he said with a shake of his head.

For a moment, Filanna feared that she had indeed gone too far, that he would find her meddlesome and send her away. “Is that, er, bad?”

“No, I admit to a soft spot for ellith who are a little eccentric.” He chuckled. “Especially those that show up at my doorstep with a toolbox and offer to fix my roof for me.”

“With you,” she corrected. “Not for you.”

“Right.” He grinned. “But all joking aside… this is going to be quite the project, Filanna. Even if I do accept your help, how am I ever going to repay you?”

“I am not asking for repayment. I just want to make myself useful, and... to say thank you.” Filanna shifted on her feet. “You have been so kind to me all this time, and... and I just want you to know how grateful I am for that.”

This revelation seemed to take Orophin aback. “Filanna,” he said, “you don’t have to thank me for being nice to you. I wasn’t doing you a _favour_.”

“I know that. But I wanted to show my appreciation all the same. It may surprise you to hear it, but before I came to Lórien, I was not used to friendliness from strangers. I don’t take friendship for granted and I don’t think I ever will.” Filanna took a breath and continued rapidly, “And because I like you, I do not care for the prospect of having to search the remnants of your house for your body, all right? Any other questions?”

In response, Orophin lifted a hand and gently brushed one of Filanna’s cheeks with the backs of his fingers, and she blushed, because something in his eye suddenly reminded her of another elf, one who had looked at her like this on several occasions.

“Well then, do come inside.” Smiling, he took a step back and opened the door wider to invite her in. “I have tea and bread rolls; let’s at least eat something before we start. We can’t work on empty stomachs, can we?”

They worked on the reconstruction of Orophin’s roof a few hours each day, until duty called both Orophin and Rúmil away from the city once more. It wasn’t until after they had left for the fences that Filanna realized just how much she had gotten used to their company. Having grown up in a large, mixed family, she was accustomed to having male energy around her, and now that it was mostly gone from her direct surroundings, she keenly felt its absence. Now, since Orophin and Rúmil were scheduled to remain at the border for a few weeks, she found herself starting to look forward to Haldir’s return, which was due a couple of days later. She was curious to hear how he had fared, and felt positive that they would continue to build on a better relationship.

Unfortunately, it all turned out quite different.

Three weeks had come and gone since Haldir left the city, and more days passed without a sign of him. Perhaps some sort of delay had occurred; Filanna went about her daily business as usual, unconcerned, but she did keep her ears pricked up for news of him.

Until one day she practically bumped into him on one of the stairs. He looked healthy and well and his unexpected appearance surprised her so much that she nearly dropped the satchel she was carrying in her arms, filled to overflowing with fruit and other goods she had just purchased at the market.

“You are back!” she said in bewilderment. Not exactly the greeting she’d had in mind, but she was too shocked to be charming.

“Good day, princess.” He gave her a faint smile. “Yes, I arrived the day before yesterday, a little later than expected.”

“The day before yesterday?” Filanna stared at him in bemusement. “You have been here for two days already?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“And it never occurred to you that I would like to know about that?”

Haldir quirked an eyebrow at her insulted tone. “I assumed that you would hear, through the ever-working channels of gossip, and that we would run into one another soon enough. I did not realize I was supposed to report to you personally.”

Her feathers ruffled by his nonchalance and blasé manner, she was about to reply sharply, but stopped herself at the last moment. Haldir did not look quite himself-- he seemed tired, irritable even, which was unusual for him. Her anger faded instantly, making way for concern.

“What is wrong?” she asked, shifting the bag from one arm to the other. “Did something happen while you were away? Has there been some sort of calamity?”

“No.” The way he was now looking down his nose at her reassured her somewhat; at least he looked like his arrogant, imperious old self once more. “I just do not care for this sort of welcome. It was not my intention to offend you and if I have, I apologize; but please, no more of your accusations. I am in no mood to listen to them today.”

She blushed and glanced at her feet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound harsh. I was just...” She wavered, not sure how to finish that sentence.

“Never mind, princess.” He smiled at her, less wanly this time. “I am a little edgy today, but it will pass. You on the other hand look quite radiant, and it pleases me to see that. I take it that you have been doing well these past weeks?”

“Yes, I am faring very well.” She smiled shyly. “I enjoy working in the stables, and I have made some friends. Inis has introduced me to her circle, a lovely bunch of ellith. Gwenél and Mereniel and Bereth...” She let her voice trail off and glanced at his face, curious to see whether Bereth’s name would trigger some kind of reaction, but Haldir didn’t move a muscle.

“How very nice indeed,” he said pleasantly. “And how are Drauglan’s lessons coming along?”

“Very well,” she said. “He is a model student. He gives me no trouble at all and he makes good progress.”

“That is good to hear. Although I can’t say that I am surprised.” Haldir glanced at the satchel in her arms, which she kept shifting from left to right. “Do you need help with that?”

“No, I can manage.” Something was definitely wrong, Filanna decided. Although he was offering smiles and conversation, both were lacking their usual spirit and flair, and he was too polite, too dull. It was puzzling, rather unsettling even-- she had never seen Haldir anything other than cheerful and roguish. If something had affected his humor in a bad way, it must be serious.

“If you have the time, come and watch one of these days,” she said. “I am sure he would be so proud if you did.”

“Who?”

“Well, Drauglan, of course.” Filanna had to make an effort not to lose her patience. Valar, was he paying attention to her at all? “I teach him in the afternoons and the training grounds are a public place, so stop by sometime. It would be such a stimulation for him. Orophin has done it a few times, as well.”

“Mmm.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “That reminds me. I couldn’t help but notice that my brother’s talan has undergone a few changes since I last saw it. Do you by any chance know more about that?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” She smiled. “Orophin’s home is finally getting that long overdue renovation.”

“I saw that, but what brought this revolution about? My little brother is the world’s most illustrious procrastinator; this simply cannot have been his own idea.”

“No, it was mine.” Filanna laughed. “And yes, I had to use all my powers of persuasion before he caved.”

A smile ghosted across Haldir’s lips. “I suppose I should have known that a little female charm would do the trick.”

“Oh, it wasn’t just charm alone.” With a self-conscious smile, she held out her hands, showing him the chafes. “It involved a little bloodshed, too.”

One of Haldir’s eyebrows shot skywards. “Don’t tell me he asked you to help him.”

“No, I offered it myself.” The satchel threatened to slip from the crook of her arm again, so she hoisted it up and transferred it to the other arm. The impatiently executed maneuver almost caused the bulging sack to topple over, and she barely suppressed a curse.

“I can watch this no longer,” Haldir said, taking a step forward. “I am going to take that from you, princess, whether you like it or not.”

“Well...” Filanna began, but he had already taken her cargo from her arms.

“Where do these need to go?” he inquired.

“To my talan,” she said. “Come, it isn’t far.”

During the short walk to her talan, Filanna could not shake the feeling that he was making haste with it, and that he would rather have been somewhere else. He did not flirt, he did not tease her, he was perfectly friendly and gallant but not more than that. For a long time she had thought that this was how she wanted him to act, but now she was not so sure.

“Thank you, Haldir,” she said as he placed her purchases on the table. “I appreciate your help.”

He smiled and glanced around. “So this is where you live these days, princess. It looks nice.”

“Thank you, I think so too.” Filanna started unpacking the fruit and placing it in the bowl she used for this purpose. “I am still working at making it cozy. Inis has even offered to make me some new drapes for the windows, but she has done so much for me already. And these curtains are good enough-- they’re nice and light. I think I’ll just wash them sometime and see how that looks. This talan seems not to have been used for quite a while and I think that a little soap and water would make for a considerable improvement.”

As she prattled on about the curtains, Haldir wandered away from her, his eyes sliding across the room. “Orophin told me you kept the flower,” he suddenly said. “The one I gave you.”

She looked up in surprise, but he was now standing with his back to her and she could not read his face. Why on earth would Orophin have told him such an insignificant thing? “Yes, I did,” she said. “But all flowers must wither in the end, so sadly I don’t have it anymore.”

He turned around, but his eyes still seemed to avoid hers. “And you have not found a replacement for it?”

“Well, no.” She smiled. “I am not being offered flowers every day, you know. What exactly do you take me for, Marchwarden?”

He smiled faintly, but said nothing. There was a long silence, and Filanna hesitated, unsure what to do next. She was not used to being the one who had to keep the conversation going, and suddenly she felt shy again.

“Let me offer you something cold to drink,” she said. “It is the least I can do in return for your efforts.”

“No, thank you.” He glanced at the door. “I should probably be on my way again.”

“Oh. Very well...” Filanna bit her lip in disappointment. Well, this was certainly becoming more and more awkward. She did not know what exactly she had been expecting of this encounter, but this was definitely not it. When she thought about it, it was actually in perfect correspondence with the nature of their relationship; she kept making the mistake of thinking she could predict his actions, and he seemed to have made a sport out of proving her wrong. Truly, his unpredictability was the only predictable thing about him.

After they had bidden each other goodbye at the door, he looked at her for a moment and said, “I truly am glad to see that you are doing well, princess. I had hoped that it would be so.”

“Thank you, Haldir,” she said. “I also am glad. That you are faring well, I mean.”

When he departed, she did not go back into the talan right away. Instead she watched him for a few moments as he walked away, wondering what it was that caused him to behave so oddly today, and hoping that it would prove to be a temporary thing indeed.

But somehow, as she stood there on the threshold watching him go, she had the strange, unpleasant feeling that something had changed between them... for good.


	11. Cards On The Table

Although he made sure to pluck the fruits of his furlough as he always did, Haldir found to his chagrin that their taste did not satisfy him this time. He normally enjoyed indulging in simple luxuries like a decent hot meal, pleasurable company and the occasional stiff drink, but this time, not even the best bottle of wine or the most exhilarating sex could take his mind off the elleth who was quickly becoming the bane of his waking hours.

He had really hoped that three weeks of border duty, spent far away from her, would help him think clearly again, but no-- his longing had only increased, and so had his confusion. Fortunately, years of training enabled him to appear stoic and poised in front of his wardens even when he felt anything but those things, but it annoyed him that he had to use that skill to begin with. The position of Marchwarden held many responsibilities, and he could not put the trust that was placed in him to shame; he could not allow these thoughts of questionable nature to distract him from the task at hand. And he tried to keep them at bay; oh, the Valar knew he tried.

Haldir had a will made of steel, that was a well-known fact, but he was not without weaknesses, and when it came to Filanna, his tormentress from the Mirkwood realm, he discovered that he had very little control over the directions in which his thoughts strayed. And now that he was back, and had seen with his own eyes how much she had already changed in such a short period of time, he feared that things would grow worse rather than improve.

The changes he saw in her were truly remarkable. She had not yet been two months in Lórien, and already the buds on this little flower were starting to bloom, in brilliant and unexpected colours. She exuded more confidence, smiling and laughing more readily, and she was oh so lovely when she did either of those things. Radiant, he had called her, and there wasn’t a better word to describe her-- she looked radiant when she smiled, and her eyes held a sparkle that reminded Haldir of something, though it took him a while to figure out where he had seen that glint of mischief before: in the eyes of her father. It was an interesting discovery; if Filanna had inherited Thranduil’s wicked sense of humor, then that certainly promised something for the future.

Her appearance was changing as well. After that one dinner at Orophin’s he had not seen her in a dress again, but she did appear to have acquired a whole new wardrobe, in which Haldir thought he recognized Inis’s influence. Inis was very fond of exotic designs and colours, and Haldir knew of no one else who could have persuaded the mousy Filanna to dress in garments of bright orange, violet and lapis lazuli. Haldir thought she looked quite spectacular in them. She also seemed more willing to let her hair down, literally, and the unflattering braid was often absent these days. This pleased Haldir beyond measure. She had beautiful thick hair, of a dark chestnut-brown colour that was rarely seen in Lothlórien, and it looked so soft that it made his fingers itch to touch it whenever he saw her.

It was as if a fever had taken hold of him, and for some reason her rejection had only fuelled his desire, gradually turning his initial interest into something that was now almost an obsession. It was most annoying. And it was hopeless. If there was even the slightest indication that his interest was mutual, he would have made his move a long time ago. But she had made it very clear that his advances were not appreciated, and lest he do irreparable damage to their already fragile relationship, he had to restrain himself, had to accept the situation as it was and try to put his mind to other things. He had done it before, but it had never cost him so much effort-- or caused him so much pain.

And so, after returning to Caras Galadhon, he had done nothing to approach her in any way. He did not want to avoid her, but he must, for the sake of his own sanity. They rarely spoke these days, although he had, at her invitation, attended one of Drauglan’s lessons.

Another thing that had changed was Filanna’s treatment of him. She seemed more comfortable in his presence, not quite so tense and irritable as before, and whenever they chanced to meet, she actually seemed pleased to see him. Ironically, her friendliness was even harder to bear than her hostility, for the more her joyful and witty nature manifested itself, the more he ached for the one thing he could not allow himself to seek: her company.

It was maddening. And the jealousy was the worst of all. It was an emotion he despised, one he believed held no sway over him, but these days, he felt his blood starting to boil every time he so much as considered the possibility of her ending up in the arms of another. She had even managed to make him jealous of his own brother, something he had never expected to happen. Filanna had grown even more fond of Orophin while Haldir was away, and in every conversation he had with her his youngest brother’s name popped up at least once every five sentences. It frustrated him to no end, and made him wonder if his impetuous sibling had cast his earlier advice to the winds. He planned to confront Orophin on the matter, but when Orophin finally returned to the city, a few days before Rúmil, he showed up at Haldir’s doorstep with a merry company of friends, announcing that they were going out for a few drinks and asking him to join them. Tempted by the idea of a relaxed night out, some uncomplicated drinking with friends, Haldir accepted the invitation.

But as he should have expected, fate had something quite different in store.

The evening started out pleasantly enough. Seated at their regular table in one of the city’s most popular taverns, the five ellyn shared some animated conversation and a flagon of wine, followed by a second and even a third. Both Haldir and Orophin were experienced drinkers, but it was always Orophin’s grip on coherency that started slipping first, and this time was no exception. Whilst Haldir was still fairly lucid, Orophin was rapidly sliding into a state of complete intoxication, and Orophin, as Haldir knew all too well, turned into a sensational flirt when he was drunk.

“Meliel!” Orophin called to the elleth that was serving tonight, and he gestured at the goblets on the table. “Our supply is running low, here. Would you be a doll and bring us more of the same?”

As Meliel went to fetch a new flagon, Haldir studied his brother for a moment and semi-casually said, “Do you truly think it wise to keep drinking at this point, Orophin?”

“Excuse me?” Orophin turned to Haldir, both his movements and his speech delayed by the alcohol.

“I can see where this is headed, and believe me brother, you do not wish to go any further.”

“How splendid.” Orophin rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, my mistake; I thought I had invited my brother, not my babysitter.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I am only looking out for your welfare, as you seem disinclined to do so yourself.”

“For the Valar’s sake, Haldir, don’t be so dull and resp... responsible.” Orophin gave a high-pitched laugh that made their friends, who were following the discussion with amusement, snigger. “When was the last time _you_ allowed yourself to get totally and blissfully drunk?”

“Fortunately, a very long time ago,” Haldir said dryly. “I have no desire to argue with you over this, Orophin. You are old enough to make your own decisions, but don’t look to me for support when you feel miserable tomorrow morning. Find yourself another fool willing to listen to your whining and to force foul concoctions down your throat against the hangover, because it is not going to be me this time.”

Orophin groaned at the mental image. “Oh, Haldir, _must_ you always spoil the fun?”

Haldir shrugged. “I consider it my duty as a brother to shield you from all harm, Orophin, even when it is self-inflicted.”

“How very noble of you. As touching as your concern is, brother-dear, please do me a favour now and shut up.”

Meliel, who came over to bring their order, overheard these last words. “Not arguing on this lovely night, are we?” she said as she placed the flagon on the table.

Orophin grinned. “Of course not, my pretty. My brother and I are merely having a difference of opinion, that is all.” As she was about to turn away, he suddenly caught her by the arm and pulled her onto his lap, at which she let out a squeak of surprise.

“Let me go, Orophin.” She laughed and put up a weak token struggle. “I have no time for these games. And you are drunk.”

“Thank you for making my point,” Haldir said without humor, raising his goblet for a sip.

“Stop squirming, sweetling,” Orophin said with amusement, ignoring Haldir. His hands rested on her waist, but he wasn’t really restraining her. “‘Tis dangerous to wriggle in a drunkard’s lap.”

She made a sound of indignation that turned into a giggle. “You are such a rascal, Orophin. Please, I am not allowed to dally with customers. Let me get back to work. When one of my superiors sees I am not serving, I will be in so much trouble.”

“Well, you are serving me,” Orophin pointed out archly, but he did allow her to get up from his lap. Prudishly she smoothed her skirt, looking down at him.

“You wish I was,” she said haughtily, but a smile was playing at her lips when she walked away.

“Niiice,” said Esgalvír, one of Orophin’s friends approvingly.

“You’ve got her hooked, my friend,” Maegorod agreed. “What _is_ your secret, Orophin? My cheek is still hurting from the last time I tried something like that.”

Orophin grinned knowingly, obviously pleased with himself. Haldir sighed and shook his head, but refrained from comments. He saw Glamion coming their way and sensed trouble ahead. Mildly put, he and his brothers weren’t exactly on friendly terms with this elf, especially since Orophin and Glamion had once rivalled for the graces of the same elleth, with some humiliating results for the latter. It had never come to a real confrontation between the two - because even Glamion, a blacksmith and farrier with hands like shovels, knew better than to get into a fistfight with a warden as experienced as Orophin - but he rarely let an opportunity to harass and provoke his rival pass him by. It was not quite clear with what kind of intentions he was approaching this time, but they couldn’t be good, and Haldir instantly felt himself shift into alert mode, ready to take action if necessary.

“Well, well,” Glamion said when he reached their table, looking down at Orophin disdainfully. “This old fox is still up to the same tricks, I see. How surprising. Whose terrain are you trespassing on this time, Orophin?”

The smile on Orophin’s face vanished and he seemed to abruptly regain some clarity of mind. “Back off, Glamion,” he growled, shooting his nemesis a warning look.

“Tut tut, what manners.” Glamion shook his head in mock disapproval. “How would your little wife feel about that, I wonder?”

Orophin frowned, caught off-guard by this comment. “What on earth are you jabbering about? I’m afraid you’ve really lost it this time, Glamion.”

“Oh, is she not your wife?” Glamion feigned surprise. “I’m sorry, but you two lovebirds looked so sweet together, crawling about on that roof of yours as though you were building your own little nest.”

Haldir saw dangerous little flames appear in Orophin’s eyes and knew he had better intervene. “That will do, Glamion,” he said in a calm, but warning tone.

“A word of advice, Marchwarden,” Glamion said sharply, turning to him. “These are my affairs and not yours, so if you are wise, you will keep your abnormally large nose out of them.”

Orophin leapt to his feet, the heat of his fury rising fast. “You will not speak to my brother in such a manner!” he snarled. “Take it back this instant, or prepare to have every bone in your body broken.”

The conversations at the other tables were now falling silent one by one, and curious eyes were being turned to Orophin and Glamion. Haldir knew that if it came to a fight between the two, serious harm could be done, and in his current state his brother had little, if any, control over his actions. “Sit down, Orophin,” he said with emphasis. “He’s not worth it.”

“So tell me,” Glamion continued to taunt Orophin, “you do recompense that frigid Mirkwoodian wench appropriately for her efforts, I hope? She sure looks as though she can use a good roll in the hay, but I can’t say that I envy you, my friend. If she’s only half as chilly down there as she looks, I’d rather–”

Before Glamion could finish his sentence, Orophin shook off Maegorod’s calming hand and stormed towards his adversary with tightly clenched fists. “You will regret that, you wretched little worm!” he spat, voice trembling with rage.

The intensity of Orophin’s reaction seemed to take even Glamion aback, but he recovered swiftly and also assumed a fighting position. The confrontation was escalating at a rapid pace, but Haldir was on his feet in a flash and managed to grab and restrain Orophin’s arms before the first blow was delivered.

“For Varda’s sake, Orophin, pull yourself together,” Haldir hissed while commotion broke out and bystanders came rushing in to keep the two rivals apart.

“L-let go of me, Haldir,” Orophin ordered with gritted teeth, fighting against Haldir’s arm-lock. Fury lent him strength, and had he been a little more sober, Haldir would have had much more difficulty restraining him. “Let me give that sl-slimy snake what he deserves.”

“Certainly not,” Haldir said calmly. He began to steer his struggling sibling, who was glaring at Glamion with passionate hatred, in the direction of the stairs. “I apologize for this, Meliel,” he said to the startled-looking elleth. “I will pay for the drinks later.”

“What are you doing?” Orophin demanded, unsuccessfully trying to dig his heels in.

“I am taking you home, brother. The wine is clouding your brain, and if I let you have your way now, you are going to have great regrets in the morning.” Haldir gave Orophin a little push towards the stairs and then turned to Glamion, who had also been released and was looking at the two brothers with arrogance and unconcealed disdain.

“As for you...” Haldir said to him, the strained tone of his voice illustrating that despite appearances, he too was furious. “If you ever speak of Filanna like that again, within my earshot or outside of it, I swear you will regret it more than you can imagine.”

“Oh, please.” Glamion looked bored. “Is that a threat, Haldir? Are you actually threatening me?”

“You can call it whatever you like. I assure you that I mean every word.”

“You have no authority over me, Marchwarden,” Glamion said haughtily. “You can’t discipline me, like you would one of your wardens.”

Haldir took a step closer. He was the taller one, and he used this fact to good advantage. “If you think I know of no other ways to make your life unpleasant, think again,” he said with cool authority. “I have tried not to take sides in this feud, because frankly I think you and Orophin are both acting like fools, but it’s a different story when you drag others into it. Leave the lady alone.” His eyes bored into those of his opponent, who gave a dirty look in return, but Haldir had never lost a staring contest in his entire life. Once he was convinced that the message had been received, he turned around, grabbed Orophin by the nape of his neck and left together with him.

“Will you release me, please?” Orophin complained as they descended, Haldir one step behind his younger brother. “And there really is no need to squeeze so hard, Haldir; I am no child, you know, and you are not our father.”

“I might as well be,” Haldir muttered, but he did let go, realizing that it must be humiliating for Orophin to be seen like this. It then quickly became clear that Orophin was too inebriated to walk a straight line, so Haldir had to support him all the way to his talan.

“Glamion is such a rat,” Orophin said as he stumbled to his bed, leaning heavily on Haldir’s shoulder. “If I could get away with killing him, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Haldir said calmly. “The time of the kinslayings is long over, and I have no desire whatsoever to see them renewed.”

Orophin mumbled something under his breath. “Why did you stop me back there? That wretched waste of space was asking for a good punch on his nose.”

“Yes, he was,” Haldir agreed, “but you were much too eager to deliver it, little brother. I know your intentions were honourable, but you know as well as I do that violence, a vulgar bar fight least of all, will not solve anything. And I am not going to sit back and watch you tarnish your good name.”

“You are so wise, so sensible, Haldir,” Orophin slurred, unceremoniously flopping down on the bed. “You always know what is best for everyone... except for yourself.”

Haldir looked down at his brother’s form for a few moments before kneeling down to help Orophin out of his boots. “Do not give him the satisfaction of your anger, Orophin. Let him exhaust himself provoking you, if that pleases him, but do not, under any circumstances, let him taunt you into fighting with him. Remember that you are a warden of Lórien, not a mindless troublemaker who needs but one spark to fly into a rage. We have a responsibility to the people and I can’t have you compromising our reputation.”

Orophin muttered something Haldir could not understand, but it sounded distinctly grumpy.

“Orophin. I need you to promise me that.”

“Aye, aye, I promise,” Orophin said with a sigh. “But you must promise me something in return, Haldir.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell Filanna what happened tonight. If she heard those awful things Glamion said about her, she’d probably take all that nonsense to heart and be terribly hurt by it. So... please don’t mention it to her.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Haldir said. “But she may find out anyway, Orophin. You were seen by many tonight, and you know how people are.”

Orophin made a sound of frustration. “Mordor take Glamion. I swear, if that piece of scum hurts her in any way, I will make him curse the day his parents begat him.”

Having taken off Orophin’s boots, Haldir rose and lifted his brother’s legs, placing them on the bed. He had no desire to undress his brother any further, so Orophin would have to sleep in his clothes tonight. “You enjoy calling him names, don’t you?”

“I do. It makes me feel so much better.” Orophin threw his arm over his eyes and groaned. “On second thought, I take that back. Haldir, the world is spinning. Please, make it stop.”

“If only I could.” Haldir patted Orophin’s knee. “You’ll have to sleep it off, little brother, but I will leave a bowl by your bed before I go.”

At this point, however, Haldir found himself hesitating. He had a question to ask, but he was torn between his desire to hear the answer and his fear of what it might be.

“Orophin, tell me honestly,” he said after a silence so long that he feared Orophin might have dozed off already. “Are you in love with her?”

“What?” Orophin lifted his arm, revealing alcohol-glazed eyes that blinked at Haldir in surprise. “Me, in love? With Filanna? Oh, brother, don't you start as well.”

“A simple yes or no will do, Orophin.”

Orophin sighed wearily. “We have already talked about this, Haldir. Filanna and I are just friends.”

“Does _she_ know that?”

“What do you mean?” Orophin asked with a frown.

“You promised me that you would be careful not to give her the wrong impression. Have you?”

“Mmm... I think so.”

Haldir heaved an impatient sigh. “Orophin!”

“I know not why you worry so much, Haldir.” Orophin leaned up on one elbow, passing a hand over his forehead. “I would not violate our pact.”

“Pact? What pact?”

“Why, our sacred brother-pact.” Orophin gave a dopey grin. “You like Filanna, so that automatically makes her off-limits to me, doesn’t it? Besides, I would not take her as my lover even if you weren’t fond of her. I care for her as a friend, nothing more.”

“I am not fond of her,” Haldir said stiffly.

This time it was Orophin’s turn to sigh impatiently. “Oh, come on. The mere fact that we are having this conversation proves otherwise. I may be drunk, but a fool I am not.”

Haldir gritted his teeth. "If friendship is truly all it is, I am reassured. Just don't think too lightly of these things, Orophin. If that girl gets her heart broken because of you--”

Orophin fell back onto the bed. “Oh, very well, if it would ease your troubled mind then consider the promise renewed. I will be careful not to send out any wrong signals.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Good. I’m glad we’ve got it all sorted out. But be assured, Haldir, if I was a little more sober I would lecture you until your ears rang. Suppressing your feelings like this won't do you any good in the long run."

Haldir smiled humorlessly and made to leave. “Well, then I suppose all that drinking was good for something after all. I will leave you now, Orophin. Good night.”

Orophin grunted. “Haldir?”

Haldir halted and turned, wondering if he was going to get that speech anyway. “Yes, Orophin.”

“Please don’t forget that bowl.”

xxx

As Orophin had hoped, Filanna remained - for some time at least - unaware of these events while life continued as before. June had come, and with it a period of warm, muggy weather. Without rain, flowers wilted in the sun and shallow streams fell dry, and the Galadhrim too sighed under the heat wave. Filanna bathed every day, sometimes even twice, but it helped little; it simply was too warm for comfort. Still, life in Lórien gave her little reason for complaint, but there was one piece that refused to fall into place, and of course this proverbial thorn in her flesh had everything to do with a certain Marchwarden.

Somehow, she had the feeling that Haldir had been avoiding her lately, and she didn’t understand this dramatic and sudden change in his behaviour. Admittedly, she had not always been kind to him, but had their relationship not been improving recently? They had parted on such friendly terms. Had he only been interested in her as a potential lover then, not as a friend? This thought bothered her more than she would have thought possible, and truth be told, she rather missed the old Haldir. It took a while before she could admit that even to herself. Countless times she had wished that he would leave her alone, and now that he did, she missed him. Her analytical mind really struggled with these conflicting emotions. If Haldir did not desire her company anymore, she had no choice but to accept it, but frustrate her it did.

She was relieved when Orophin returned at last, and the two of them continued the reconstruction work where they’d left off almost two weeks earlier. Rúmil, who returned a few days later, even joined them a few times, offering a pair of helping hands without being asked. Haldir, on the other hand, did not show his face once, which was a disappointment and another addition to Filanna’s growing list of frustrations. For even though Orophin’s company offered welcome distraction, Haldir was never out of her thoughts for long. She kept looking for him in public places, hoping that he would show up and offer her a smile.

In the end, a confrontation was of course inevitable. The telltale signs were there, but she didn’t see or understand them until it was too late. Her lack of life experience kept her blissfully unaware of how the ingredients for catastrophe were slowly coming together, like a bubbling potion in a wizard’s cauldron, waiting for that one last drop of liquid or bit of powder that would cause it all to explode.

The heat wave persisted. Not a single drop of rain had fallen for almost two weeks, and it was so warm that Orophin and Filanna had given up trying to work during the day, saving their activities for the evening hours instead. They would work until it became too dark to continue, and then cool down with a glass of wine in Orophin’s talan. Their hard work was paying off-- almost the entire roof had been replaced, and somewhere along the way, Orophin appeared to have been bitten by the home improvement bug.

“When it is finished, we’ll celebrate,” he said one evening as they were ripping out the last pieces of rotting wood and rusty nails. “We’ll have dinner, make an evening of it, without leakage this time. And then we discuss the next step.”

“Next step?” She looked up suspiciously.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking.” He grinned. “I may expand. I’d love a bigger balcony, and maybe an extra bedroom, for guests. What do you think?”

She gave him a playful swat over the head. “You’re insane, that’s what I think. There is no way I am going to slave any more for you once this is finished, least of all for a silly thing like an extra room you don’t need.”

“You disappoint me,” Orophin said teasingly. “I never thought you were a quitter, Filanna.”

“It has nothing to do with quitting,” she countered. “Your roof was in dire need of replacement and I offered to help you with that from the kindness of my heart, but expanding was never part of the agreement. If you want more rooms, go ahead and build them, but don’t count on me. ... Ouch!”

“What is it?”

“Something pricked my finger.” She turned her hand, expecting to see an insect bite, but found that a wood splinter that had imbedded itself rather deeply in her index finger.

Orophin leaned in. “What’s that?”

“Just a splinter,” she said, pinching the area with the thumb and forefinger of the other hand to force the unwelcome object out.

He seized her hand. “Let me see. Oh!” He grinned. “It’s _massive_!”

“It is not. Don’t be silly.” She laughed and pulled her hand out of his. “I hardly feel it.”

“Oh, isn’t she tough?” Smirking, he reached out and caught her wrist. “Here, let me try.”

She sighed but gave in, opening her hand for him to examine.

“Well?” she said when a few moments of silence had gone by. “What are you waiting for?”

“Do not disturb a healer at work, please,” he replied. She could not see his face because the fall of his hair concealed most of it. “I am contemplating the best way to remove this thing.”

“Well, contemplate a little faster. It’s just a splinter, Orophin; my life isn’t exactly lying in the balance.”

Orophin looked up, clucking his tongue. “Perhaps not, but we wouldn’t want to leave a permanent mark on this fair skin, now would we?”

His face was now directly in front of hers, and Filanna leaned forward on a sudden impulse. Her lips landed a little awkwardly on his, slightly off-center. The next moment she pulled back, only to find him looking at her in open astonishment. It was only then that she realized what she had done, and instant embarrassment set her face aflame. What on earth had possessed her to do such a thing?

“Oh Valar,” she said, utterly horrified. “I didn’t actually kiss you just now, did I?”

Orophin was still staring at her. “Well...”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me.” She groaned and buried her face in her hands, too ashamed to look at him any longer. “Elbereth, I am a fool.”

A sigh from him. “I fear I am the fool here, Filanna. I did not mean to... Oh dear, I seem to have made the very mistake Haldir warned me of.”

Complete silence followed these words. Filanna slowly lowered her hands. “What?”

Orophin opened his mouth to repeat it, but then seemed to realize that he had unwittingly ventured onto thin ice. “Erm...”

“What did you say about Haldir?” Her blunder suddenly forgotten, Filanna was willing to press the matter if necessary. “He _warned_ you? About what?”

Orophin was clearly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had now taken. “He merely advised me to be careful, because, erm...” He raised his eyes to the sky in embarrassment. “Valar, this is going to sound odd no matter how I phrase it, but Haldir was concerned that you... might get the wrong idea. About us, I mean.”

Filanna could hardly believe her ears. “Oh, was he?” she said slowly.

“He was only trying to protect you, Filanna,” Orophin said carefully, defending his brother as could be expected. “He cares for you, as do I.”

“I see,” Filanna said sarcastically. “Well, as flattering as that is, he really needn’t have bothered. I never thought you were _in love_ with me, Orophin.”

“No?” Relief flickered in Orophin’s eyes.

“No. And I don’t want you to be, either.” Filanna blushed. “I know that sounds strange, after what I just did, but I swear it’s true. I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t going to ravish you, or declare my undying love for you. It was just a silly impulse. I mean... I do care for you, but only as a friend.”

“I feel the same way,” Orophin said, nodding.

“Good, that is a relief.” She attempted a smile. “I’m really sorry for kissing you like that.”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s attribute it to the fact that I am just so darn irresistible.” Orophin laughingly dodged her swatting hand. “Joke, Filanna. Joke!”

“It had better be,” she said, but she was laughing too. In awkward situations like these, she was more than grateful for Orophin’s sense of humor.

He sighed. “Bless you for being a good sport, Filanna. If I had messed this up, then Haldir would have had my hide for it.”

Her smile faded at that. “That reminds me, Orophin-- there is something I have to take care of, and I'd rather not let it wait until tomorrow. Would you mind if we stopped working for the day?”

“Of course not, but...” He raised a suspicious eyebrow, getting up and following her as she made for the edge of the roof. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” she said evasively, dropping down onto the porch, but her face was set with determination. She shot him a quick smile. “Good night, Orophin. I will see you again tomorrow.”

As she stalked away, clearly on the warpath, Orophin watched her go from atop his roof, a troubled expression on his face. “Uh oh,” he said with a sigh. “May the Valar help Haldir.”

xxx

Haldir, in the meantime, was blissfully unaware of the storm that was coming his way. He was lying in bed with Bereth, trying to cope with the heat-- the lingering heat of the past day as well as the heat of passion that was still coursing through his veins. He had thoroughly enjoyed himself in the preceding hour, but was now getting drowsy and starting to nod off. He could sense that Bereth was still awake, but she too had been quiet for some time. He was fine with that. It was one of the reasons why he preferred her company these days-- she knew when silence and discretion were appreciated, and that was a trait not all women possessed.

Unfortunately, he had counted his blessings a little too soon tonight, for after a long time of silence she suddenly sighed, turned over to face him and asked without any form of introduction, “What is troubling you, Haldir?”

He gave her a wary glance. “Nothing is, why do you ask? Do I look like a troubled elf to you?”

“Something is different about you.” She propped herself up on one elbow, her eyes not leaving his. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but sometimes I get the impression that your mind isn’t really here when you lie with me. You have never completely opened up to me, but you are so distant these days that it makes me wonder if perhaps you have no need for my company anymore.”

Her direct and down-to-earth approach made him smile slightly, but a little warning bell had gone off inside his head. He liked Bereth and trusted her, but she was oh so perceptive and that could be dangerous.

“If that were the case,” he said, “I would have told you so, wouldn’t I?”

“Then something else is going on. I have known you for a long time, Haldir; you can’t expect me to turn a blind eye.”

He sighed. “I admit I have been distracted lately, but if I have given you the impression that I do not enjoy your company, I apologize. It was unintentional. And your concern is appreciated, but talking about the things that bother me will not help. My problems are mine to solve.”

“I thought you might say that,” she sighed. “I don’t mean to pry, Haldir. I just wish for you to be happy.”

Haldir, who was tired no longer, rose up on one elbow. “Oh, but there are a few things you can do to help achieve that, my dear,” he said smoothly, sliding a hand around her neck to pull her in for a kiss. She quickly placed her fingers over his lips.

“I enjoy our dalliances, you know that,” she said. “But you have not forgotten that this arrangement is only temporary, have you?”

He shook his head and nipped at her fingers, impatient for them to be gone.

“When my services are no longer necessary, I shall step aside,” she continued.

“I know all that,” he said, catching her wrist and pulling her fingers away from his mouth. “What is the point to this conversation, Bereth? As far as I can tell, we are both still content with this agreement. Why would we want to end it?”

“I can think of a few reasons,” she said. Something about the tone of her voice made him shiver, and he decided that the most efficient way to end this conversation was to take immediate action. He flipped her over on her back, pinned her down and claimed his kiss. She was obliging, but when he released her mouth and started making a trail of kisses down her throat and chest, she said, “I was told an interesting story the other day. It was about you. Would you like to hear it?”

“Not particularly.”

“What I heard is that you butted heads with Glamion at the tavern a couple of days ago,” she said, ignoring his reply. “And that you defended the honour of an elleth we both know.”

He closed his eyes briefly. So what he had feared had already happened. “You shouldn’t listen to gossip.”

“I know, that is why I'm asking you. Is it true?”

“Aside from the fact that Orophin was more likely to butt heads with him than I, yes, it is true.”

A slight smile touched her lips. “How chivalrous, Haldir.”

He shrugged. “Glamion had it coming. He was being crude and needed to be put in his place.” He traced the curve of her right breast with his fingers. “I would defend your honour also, if the need arose.”

His own choice of words made him chuckle, for he was feeling quite needy at the moment and something was definitely on the rise.

She smiled coquettishly. “Well, I am flattered. I hope Filanna has at least thanked the protectors of her good name properly?”

“I don’t think she knows what happened, at least not yet. I fear it is only a matter of time before she hears about it, given the speed with which rumors tend to spread in this city.” Haldir scowled. “All the same, I must ask you not to mention it to her.”

“If that is what you want, then I won’t. You know that.” Bereth looked surprised. “But why, Haldir? Don’t you think she would like to know what you did? I know I would.”

He sighed and was about to answer, but was cut short by a series of knocks on the door. He didn’t recognize the pattern, which was unfortunate; if it had been one of his brothers out there, he would have stayed where he was and called to them to get lost. But this could be anyone. It could even be Lord Celeborn or Lady Galadriel, although they usually did not come to his talan at so late an hour.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Bereth asked when the mysterious visitor knocked a second time.

“Yes, yes.” Thoroughly chagrined, Haldir stepped out of bed and slipped into his leggings. He pulled at the ties as he strode through his living room, but did not bother to secure them. He opened the door with a little more force than necessary, expecting to see some young recruit who had yet to find out by experience that the Marchwarden did not like to be disturbed after sundown.

But it was no recruit standing there, it wasn’t even one of his wardens. It was Filanna, the one he had least expected to see. There she stood in all her loveliness, but looking more displeased than ever, a crease between her eyebrows and her pretty lips pursed. Haldir instantly knew that his evening was going to get worse yet.

She had already opened her mouth to speak, but she had clearly not expected him to appear like this, dressed only in a pair of leggings just barely clinging to his hips. Involuntarily her eyes flicked across his bare chest, until she became aware of what she was doing and abruptly jerked her gaze upwards to his face. For once she did not blush, but collected herself and opened fire.

“Good evening, Marchwarden. Have I disturbed anything?” she asked without preamble, and the way she stressed the last word left little to be guessed about its meaning.

“I would be lying if I denied that,” he said grimly.

Her face grew colder still. “I see. Well, this shouldn't take too long. I just came over to tell you this: don’t do me any more favours.”

“Favours?” He frowned. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you mean.”

“What I mean, is that one: you do not know what is best for me, even though you may think otherwise, and two: I do not need your protection. I can fend for myself!”

With a shock, Haldir suddenly thought he knew what she was referring to. Apparently she had already caught wind of what had happened at the tavern; but this was not at all the reaction he and Orophin had been expecting.

“I am sorry you take it that way, but I couldn't let it slide,” he said stiffly. “He was asking for it, Filanna. All I did was give him a warning, and stop Orophin from bashing his skull in. If you do not want protection, then Orophin has more need of this speech than I.”

Now it was Filanna’s turn to be puzzled. “What in Elbereth’s name are you talking about? Who was asking for what, and what has Orophin done?”

Haldir was silent for a moment. “You mean you weren’t talking about the fight?”

“Fight? What fight?” Filanna narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What happened, Haldir?”

Haldir groaned inwardly, cursing himself for being so careless. “Nothing you need to know about,” he said, in a rather pathetic attempt to save the situation.

She made a sound of frustration. “Valar, why must you be so annoying!”

“And why must you show up at my doorstep like this, accusing me of wrongs I did not commit?” he countered sharply. “I am growing weary of your attitude, princess. I may not tolerate it much longer.”

“So you did not tell Orophin to walk on eggshells around me?” she sneered. “When you said that I might get the ‘wrong impression’, you did not mean to imply that I was a silly young elleth who would unpreventably fall for the charms of the first male elf who showed her a little kindness?”

He gritted his teeth. “Who told you that?”

“Orophin did, although I do not think he meant to.” She crossed her arms. “Well? What do you have to say to that?”

“Only that I did it because I thought it was the right thing to do,” Haldir said evenly. “I did not want you to get hurt.”

“And what made you think that I would?”

He shrugged. “I have noticed that you and Orophin spend a fair amount of time together. You wouldn't be the first elleth to mistake a male’s friendliness for something else and be disappointed because of it.”

“Excellent. That just proves how well you know me, Haldir,” she said sarcastically. “Here is a surprise for you: I am not one of the ellith you presume to understand so well.”

“Yes, I am becoming increasingly aware of that,” Haldir said with forced calm. “But that doesn't change the fact that I do not appreciate being chastised in this manner. My concern for you was and is genuine, and I interfered only because I care about you.”

“Right.” She snorted. “Do you honestly think I am going to believe that, after the way you have been treating me these past few weeks?”

This was so out of the blue that Haldir was struck dumb for a moment. He had anticipated much, but with this remark she had completely blindsided him.

“Goodnight, Haldir,” she said coolly. “I will let you return to your _company_.”

With that, she turned and stalked away. For a moment he stood as if frozen, then cursed quietly but passionately and turned on his heel, going back inside. Avoiding Bereth’s questioning gaze, he grabbed the first shirt he could find, slipped his arms into the sleeves and pulled it roughly over his head.

“Haldir...” Bereth said cautiously.

“Not now,” he said, more curtly than intended, and without sparing her a second glance he exited the talan and dashed down the stairs in hot pursuit. Fortunately, Filanna had not gotten far.

“Don’t you know it is very impolite to walk away in the middle of a conversation?” he said as he caught up with her.

She turned her face away from him, quickening her step. “I have nothing more to say,” she said in an odd voice.

“But I do.” He reached out and caught her arm, only to come to the shocking discovery that she was in tears. For this he had not been prepared, and he forgot his anger on the spot. “You are crying,” he said softly.

“My, you are so perceptive.” Angrily she wiped her face, still avoiding his gaze.

“Why?” It tugged on his heartstrings to see her upset and it was only through sheer force of will that he refrained from reaching out and touching her face, offering some kind of comfort. He was displeased with her, but he did not wish to see her in such distress.

“Why? Because I enjoy arguing with you so much, that’s why.”

He sighed. “Filanna, _must_ you always resort to sarcasm?”

“Yes.” She looked up, her expression defiant in spite of the tears, a little challenging even. “It is one of the things I’m actually good at. Now let me pass, Haldir.”

“Until you explain to me what you meant by what you just said, you are not going anywhere.” His tone hardened as well, permitting no contradiction.

She made a sound of irritation. “Oh please, don’t pretend you don’t know. I may be naïve, but I am not dumb, Haldir. First you are all over me, then you ignore me completely, and now, after weeks of pretending I don’t exist, you actually expect me to believe that you care about me?”

He lifted his chin. “I was never all over you, Filanna. If I _had_ been you would have known it, believe me, but you never gave me the chance.”

“Ohh!” His words made her flush with anger, and she balled her hands in helpless frustration. “You are... you are such a _male_!”

He raised an eyebrow at the strange insult. “Oh, so you _have_ noticed?”

She flushed an even brighter shade of red, but gave no reply, clearly at a loss for a response this time. Inwardly she was fuming, however, her eyes glaring daggers at him, but he too was angry. In fact, he was so provoked by her unreasonable accusations, and she looked so spellbindingly beautiful even in her defiance that he shrugged off his restraint, leaned down and, without any concern for the consequences, kissed her boldly on the mouth.

As soon as their mouths connected, Filanna’s entire body went rigid, and she drew a startled breath. She stepped back, in an instinctive attempt to evade him, forgetting that she was standing on a stair-- until she realized that her foot found no support. With another gasp she tried to regain her balance, clutching at and clinging to the first thing she could get her hands on, which ironically was him. For a moment he indulged himself, holding her against him, relishing the taste of her lips, the scent of her hair, storing them in his memory for future reminiscence. Then he broke the kiss and took a step back to study her face. Trembling she stood before him, looking shaken and pale.

“Has anyone ever kissed you like that before, Filanna?” He realized that she would probably spend the rest of her days hating him passionately for this, but he did not care at the moment. Regret would come later; right now his nostrils were still filled with her scent, his blood still running fast after the stolen embrace.

“You have some nerve, Haldir,” she said quietly, with only a faint echo of fury in her voice. The shock seemed to have numbed her anger for the time being. “What exactly were you hoping to achieve with that?”

“Not much,” he lied. “Just the gratification of finally getting something I’ve been denied for a long time.”

“Well, I hope you enjoyed it, for if y-you are smart, you w-won’t ever try that again.” Unfortunately for her, the effect of her warning was spoiled by her stammering. “I shall not be the n-next willing elleth to become one of your playthings, Haldir.”

He frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know very well what it means. I’ve seen you, you and your ellith of pleasure, or whatever it is you call them. You hardly spare them a second glance when they pass, you don’t even blink when their names are mentioned-- it is pretty clear that they mean nothing to you at all. Apparently they don’t mind being treated like that, but I think it’s disgusting, and I refuse to dance to that little tune of yours.”

Haldir felt the blood drain from his face, his jaw harden. So that was how she viewed him? As a heartless philanderer who carelessly used females for his pleasure? Valar, how he would like to give her a good shake and make her see how ignorant and judgmental she was being. And oh, how tempted he was to point out to her that if having multiple bedmates was a crime, a fair percentage of the Galadhrim should be behind bars, her cherished Orophin included.

“If that is what you want to believe, go right ahead,” he said in a strained tone of voice. “I am tired of defending myself against your irrational accusations, Filanna. You say I don’t know you? You may be right, but I’ll tell you this: you know nothing about me either.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Filanna where she stood. Returning to his talan, he found Bereth sitting on the bed, fully dressed. She didn’t speak, but looked at him with eyes that said she intuitively knew what was playing here.

“Bereth,” he said with a sigh, “I am sorry, but I must ask you to leave now.”

She nodded and got up without protest. He had never sent her away before, and he did not like having to do so now, but her company – anyone’s company – was more than he could bear right now.

“I also must ask for your discretion in this,” he said, avoiding her gaze.

“Of course.” She briefly touched his arm as she passed him, kissing him gently on the cheek. “You know you’ll never have to worry about that.”

He mustered a smile and said that he would see her again soon, but as he watched her leave, he was certain that she had felt instinctively what he already knew: that this was the last evening they had spent together as lovers.


	12. A Balancing Act

_How dared he. How dared he!_

Filanna stormed home in a state of great agitation, shocked and outraged by what had just happened. After leaving Orophin she had gone to Haldir’s talan for the sole purpose of giving him a piece of her mind, determined to be eloquent and assertive and expecting to feel good about herself afterwards, but she came away feeling the exact opposite of that. No, of all the emotions that were currently besieging her, none was particularly pleasant, and she had to face the fact that the whole undertaking had been a complete and utter failure.

Granted, she thought she had made her point fairly well, but he had not acknowledged the change in his behaviour, let alone given an explanation for it. He had in fact acted surprised, as if he truly was unaware of any wrongdoing on his part. And then, just as he had driven her into a corner with a few sharp remarks – oh, how it infuriated her that he could still do that - he added insult to injury by kissing her. _Kissing_ her, for crying out loud! What in Eru’s name had possessed him to do such a thing? Filanna felt her temper flare just thinking back on it, and on the taunting words he had spoken afterwards-- _have you been kissed like that before?_ The scoundrel! He must have seen her confusion, must have guessed her ignorance in these matters – it simply could not have escaped him – and then to make a remark like that, and to actually have the audacity to look triumphant! Oh, how dared he mock her so, how dared he!

She stifled the sob that threatened to break free. Truth was, she was as much disappointed and hurt as she was angry. In spite of everything that had happened between them since their first encounter, she had come to respect him, and she had thought more highly of him than this. She genuinely wanted to believe that he liked and respected her, as he claimed he did, but how could she, after tonight? It wasn’t even the kiss itself in which she found the greatest offense. No, what upset her most of all was the fact that he had shown no scruples at all about taking liberties with _her_ while there was another elleth lying in his bed at that very moment. How could he do such a thing? It was humiliating, an insult not only to her but to the other elleth as well. After tonight, how could she not think of him as a libertine?

Such was Filanna’s inner debate as she walked – or marched, rather – from Haldir’s talan to her own, the heat of her anger alternately rising to fiery heights and then ebbing down. But the walk did help her to clear her head, and by the time she got home she was able to think more rationally. Whatever Haldir had done, there was no doubt that her own less than commendable conduct had contributed to the situation. After all, she had shown up at Haldir’s doorstep uninvited, at an unusual hour and in a vile mood, which some might say was to be asking for trouble. No, looking back at it now, she had to admit that she had not acted very diplomatically. After Orophin’s slip of the tongue she had jumped to conclusions and confronted Haldir without so much as asking for an explanation. She had provoked him-- and although that didn’t justify the way he had chosen to handle the situation, she could not deny that tonight’s events were of her making as well.

She slammed the front door of her talan shut behind her and crossed the parlor. Outside, on the balcony, she paused to light the lamp and slumped down into the nearest chair, curling herself up into a ball and resting her chin on her arms. She had to think, had to process this thing that had happened between them tonight. Why had he crossed that line, what did it mean? And, most importantly of all, how would their relationship be affected by it?

She bit absent-mindedly on one of her knuckles. Why would Haldir kiss her in the middle of a quarrel? Filanna could find no logic in that. Would any of her female friends be able to make sense of Haldir’s odd, unpredictable ways? Inis perhaps-- she was discerning and sensible, and she was the one who knew Haldir best, so she might be able to give some advice. Filanna just wasn’t sure if she dared ask for it.

_Have you been kissed like that before?_

Feeling rather self-conscious, Filanna raised fingers to her mouth and touched her lips tentatively. No, she had never been kissed before tonight, but in the course of a single evening she had locked lips with not one, but _two_ ellyn-- who also happened to be brothers. Without question an evening that had all the makings of a farce, except that Filanna did not find it amusing at all. The incident on Orophin’s roof was her fault entirely - she had been moved to kiss him out of affection - but in the other case, she fully blamed Haldir. She had not asked to be assaulted thus, and she could only hope that the experience had cured him forever.

Filanna wrapped her arms around her knees, a slight frown creasing her brow. No, she had to be fair; no matter how misguided Haldir’s actions, what he had done tonight had nothing to do with force or intimidation. He had not tried to grope her, he had not even touched her before he caught her when she almost fell. Stealing a kiss was all he had done, and he had not been aggressive or rough in any way. In fact, he had handled her with a... yes, with a gentleness that had surprised her even more than the kiss itself. Had he been rougher, she would have come to her senses sooner, would have pushed him away, kicked his shins, done whatever was needed to get him off her. The gentle assault however had stunned her-- literally.

Filanna felt her face glow. How her sisters would laugh if they could see her now. _“A kiss?”_ they would say. _“That is what got you so upset? You ought to be glad, you silly elleth, that you’ve managed to attract a male’s attention at last!”_ And they would scold her for not making the most of the situation, for not taking full advantage of what was offered. After all, no elleth in her right mind would pass up a chance to lie with the handsome Marchwarden of Lothlórien.

Suddenly Filanna remembered something else-- the look on Haldir’s face before he walked away from her. She had said something to him that, in hindsight, was incredibly hurtful and not entirely fair either. After all, she didn’t know what kind of relationship Haldir had with the females he slept with; her opinion was based on nothing but prejudices and wild guesswork, so she had no right to pass any kind of judgment. But she had blurted it out in her anger, had basically called him an unkind and inconsiderate person, and she felt uneasy thinking back on it. Haldir’s face had whitened at the accusation, and although the mask of cool disapproval slid into place quickly, his eyes had, for once, betrayed his true feelings. She had really hurt him. The realization gave her a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Oh, she and her big mouth! Why had she not thought twice before hurling those horrible insults at him?

She might really have gone too far this time. It was not in Haldir’s nature to be easily upset or provoked, and over the past few months she had done things and said things that might have roused his anger much sooner, but he had good-naturedly borne every insult and every snide comment she had flung his way-- until today. She bit her lip, trying to ignore the nagging feeling of guilt and to convince herself that he was the one who ought to feel remorse, not she; but she wasn’t really successful.

She sighed. This was always the way with her; it took little to discompose her and she could be a hothead sometimes, flying into a temper at the smallest injustice and blurting out things she didn’t mean, but she never could stay angry for long. Although her habit of quarrelling with Haldir suggested otherwise, she hated conflict. Whenever she had an argument with someone - usually one of her siblings - she would spend the aftermath analyzing the quarrel, going through everything that had been said and done over and over again and asking herself at every turn what she could have said or done differently, and what the outcome would have been if she had. The conclusion was always the same: she would end up feeling utterly miserable, convinced that everything was her fault after all. This time was hardly any different; Haldir had acted brazenly, no doubt about that, but in the end what had he hurt except her pride? She on the other hand had been inconsiderate, cruel even, with no concern for his feelings whatsoever. Yes, she thought with a heavy heart, the injury she had dealt him was infinitely graver.

She groaned and buried her face in her hands. Oh, what a mess, what an incredible, awful mess she had made! What was to be done? She must force herself to stay calm, must allow herself time to consider before she did anything else. This time, she must be prudent and not let emotion guide her, for it was an ill advisor. That much she had learned tonight.

Later, as she lay curled up in bed, she opened her journal out of sheer habit, but after long staring at the empty page, realized that she had neither the patience nor the desire to write today. And in any case, what had happened tonight defied all words.

She tried to sleep, but instead of finding some tranquillity in slumber, she lay tossing and turning for the greater part of the night, worry and guilt allowing her no rest. Even with her eyes tightly closed she saw Haldir’s face, his hurt expression, crystal clear before her. When she finally did fall into a restless sleep, shortly before dawn, her dreams were feverish, and filled with images of him.

xxx

The next morning found a group of young Geledhil practising their swordfighting skills in one of the city’s many glades. They looked, without exception, nervous; August and the warden selections were approaching fast, and as if that wasn’t enough to keep them on their toes, they were being supervised by the Marchwarden today, who was in an atrocious mood. He was irritable and impatient, and although the young swordsmen worked hard to please him, he seemed to be finding fault with each and every one of them today. Nerves were set on edge-- and they only started making more mistakes because of it.

“What in Varda’s name do you think you are doing?” he snarled at a young ellon whose elaborate footwork failed to amuse him. “Where do they teach you that? In ballet class?”

The embarrassed youngster, shrinking under Haldir’s sarcastic tone, stammered a few words of apology, but Haldir’s sharp eye had already spotted another offense.

“For the thousandth time, Elrion, lower your arm! You’ll get yourself skewered in a heartbeat if you hold it that high. Ternil, you are not paying attention. First a parry, then a lunge-- no, no, no, stop that this instant before someone gets hurt!”

With the ferocity of an angered bull, Haldir marched towards the wrongdoer, who stood as if rooted in terror. Behind Haldir’s back puzzled glances were exchanged; they could not remember ever having seen Haldir in such a state. He was an elf of equable temper, who rarely lost his composure or his patience; he would not be spitting poison like this if something quite serious had not occurred. But asking him the reason for his ill humor was out of the question; he was their superior, and their respect for him was too deeply rooted. They had grown up in households where the name Haldir was spoken with regard and reverence, they had made him their idol in their childhood years and dreamt of growing up to be like him, a warrior of such unexceptionable reputation and skill that he had been promoted Marchwarden before his first millennial feast-- an accomplishment that had no precedent in the history of Lórien.

Fortunately for the young swordsmen, salvation soon arrived in the shape of Rúmil and Orophin, respected warriors in their own right and, as Haldir’s brothers, far less inclined to be intimidated by his chagrin. Their arrival would direct Haldir’s attention away from his charges for a moment, and they were glad for the reprieve.

“Continue,” Haldir instructed them curtly before going to meet his brothers, who waited for him at the edge of the glade, out of earshot. He did not seem at all pleased about the interruption. The young warriors did as they were told, but kept half an eye on the threesome, curious to see what the outcome of the meeting would be.

“Good morning, brother,” Rúmil greeted Haldir with a smile. “How fare you on this beautiful morning?”

“I am busy, Rúmil,” Haldir said flatly. “What do you want?”

“Orophin and I were thinking about taking the horses for a ride this afternoon and wondered if you could be persuaded to join us. When we didn’t find you at home, we decided to follow the trail of half-eaten recruits.” Rúmil cocked his head, looking at Haldir intently. “What kind of wrong have these poor ellyn done you, Haldir?”

Haldir shrugged curtly. “It is nothing, Rúmil. A disagreement has left me in a bad mood, that is all. Think no more of it.”

“A disagreement with whom?”

Haldir gave no reply, but Orophin, who had been standing quietly by, answered for him. “It was Filanna, wasn’t it? She did look rather dangerous when she left my talan last evening, so much so that I wondered if I’d still have a brother in the morning. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you still in one piece, Haldir.”

“I too am glad to see you, Orophin.” Haldir’s tone was dark, and distinctly cynical. “Because I have a bone or two to pick with you, and you know why, don’t you?”

Orophin’s bravado dissipated, and his face assumed a guilty expression. “I think I have a hunch...”

“What do I hear?” A smile curved Rúmil’s lips. “A lady is behind all this? How intriguing. I _thought_ I was picking up female vibrations.”

“Don't you always?” Orophin remarked sarcastically.

“Not with Haldir.” With a look of amusement and keen interest, Rúmil searched Haldir’s impassive face. “So, brother, the Kitten of Mirkwood lashed out at you, did she?”

Orophin laughed. “She did, and it appears that the scratches are giving our brother great pains indeed.”

Haldir turned to him sharply. “One more word from you,” he said in a menacing tone of voice that left no doubt as to whether he meant it, “and you can start packing for a little excursion to the border you will remember for a long time to come, soldier.”

Orophin’s grin faded under Haldir’s glare, and Rúmil, who was looking from one to the other, decided that this problem needed a different approach.

“Come, Haldir,” he said, placing a calming hand on his eldest sibling’s shoulder. “Let’s go for a little walk, you and I.”

“Impossible,” Haldir said curtly. “I am supervising that lot back there, and the Valar know they need it.”

“Orophin will take over.” Rúmil was smiling, but the tone of his voice was insistent. “That, I think, is best for all parties involved.”

Haldir grumbled. He knew all too well what the nature of Rúmil’s proposed ‘walk’ would be and felt very unenthusiastic about the prospect, but he knew that arguing would be pointless. Rúmil, the observer, the diplomat of the family, could talk in such a way that even Haldir, who was more than five hundred years his senior, was left without a counter-argument.

“There are some very fine swordsmen among those youngsters, don’t you think?” Rúmil said pleasantly as they strolled side by side not much later. “I have high expectations of the selections in August-- it promises to be a very interesting event, and I will wager that you and the other judges are going to have a hard time deciding-”

“Rúmil,” Haldir said with a sigh, “for the love of Eru, spare me these pleasantries. Just say whatever it is you have on your mind and be done with it.”

“Very well.” Rúmil gave him a sidelong glance. “I’ll ask you point blank, then. What is going on between you and Filanna? Mind you, it is not out of curiosity that I ask–”

Haldir gave a faint smile, for the first time that day. “You lie badly, Rúmil.”

Rúmil chuckled. “Fine, I will admit to a little curiosity. But in all seriousness, your behaviour lately has been out of character, and it concerns me. I have not mentioned it before because I knew I probably wouldn’t get anything out of you, but after seeing you terrorizing those youngsters as you did just now, I must speak up and at least offer you my listening ear.”

These words were met by silence, and Rúmil, sensing that Haldir wasn’t going to respond, added, “You really don’t have to tell me everything–”

“Don’t worry, I will not,” Haldir said grimly.

Rúmil smiled. “You don’t have to confide in me. But if you do, it won’t reach anyone’s ears but my own, you know that.”

“Yes, you are the very embodiment of discretion.” Haldir sighed and reluctantly gave Rúmil a synopsis of the previous night’s events. He included most of the things Filanna had said as well as her sudden crying fit, but left out the kiss, partly because that lapse in his self-control wasn’t something he was particularly proud of, and partly because that one brief embrace, the unfortunate circumstances notwithstanding, had stirred a tender chord deep within-- and it was a rather disturbing feeling, one he did not wish to share with anyone.

“Well, this is interesting indeed,” Rúmil said once Haldir had finished, and he actually smiled. “And what exactly bothers you so much about this that you have to go and vent your frustration on innocent youngsters, Haldir?”

“Is it not obvious?” Haldir gave an impatient shrug. “The presumption of that elleth, to show up like that and start lecturing me on my own doorstep. And I refuse to remain quiet and let her hurl insult after insult at me. She may be a king’s daughter, but I will not tolerate such behaviour from anyone.” He paused for a few moments and then added, “I do not understand her, Rúmil. I simply cannot seem to do any good in her eyes, and I think I might as well stop trying. She seems determined to think the worst of me, no matter what I do.”

“Nonsense,” Rúmil said. “Why would she?”

Haldir sent a dark look his way, but did not respond.

Rúmil nudged him teasingly in the ribs. “Come, Haldir, I am no fool. Why don’t you just admit that you tried to bed her.”

Haldir heaved a sigh of aggravation. “I don’t need to ask who the indiscrete soul was who told you that, do I?”

“It was Orophin, yes, but even if he hadn’t told me, it is easily guessed. You forget that I know your taste in females, Haldir.” Rúmil laughed. “She is a lovely girl, and I am not at all surprised that she has caught your eye, but you have your hands full with her, don’t you?”

“And not in a pleasant way,” Haldir said with a grimace.

“Still,” Rúmil said, “where two quarrel, two carry the blame. I have observed the way you interact with females, Haldir, and I am sorry to say it, but your manner of flirting is not very subtle. It may be effective in many cases, but a timid young elleth like Filanna is easily startled by it.”

Haldir scowled. He did not like being lectured on the subject of flirting, by his younger brother no less, but in his heart he knew that Rúmil had a point.

Rúmil, seeing Haldir’s sour face, gave him a cordial slap on the back. “Despair not, brother. Not all hope is lost. I have never heard her speak ill of you, and she did accuse you of neglecting her lately, did she not?”

“Among other things, yes.”

“Well, why would she say that if she truly disliked you?” Rúmil smiled. “That makes no sense at all. So, to my ears it sounds as though she likes you a whole lot more than you give her credit for, Haldir.”

Haldir muttered something unintelligible, but found himself listening with interest for the first time. Could there be truth in Rúmil’s words?

“This quarrel will blow over,” Rúmil went on. “But you must decide what you want with this relationship, Haldir. The two of you are walking a tightrope between courtship and friendship, and a balancing act like that could potentially end very badly.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that if you don’t decide soon which way you want to go, at least one of you is going to fall off and get seriously hurt.”

There was a brief silence after these words, and then Rúmil suddenly smiled again, in a mysterious way Haldir found rather worrisome. “But whatever you decide to do, brother, please proceed with caution. A jealous female is a dangerous thing, and not to be underestimated.”

Haldir frowned at this odd statement. “Jealous? What on earth–” He halted abruptly, staring at Rúmil who sauntered on casually. “Don’t tell me you are suggesting that she was jealous of Bereth.”

Rúmil turned around, looking almost impatient, as if he couldn’t believe his brother was that blind. “Oh come, Haldir, wake up and smell the female rivalry. The air is rank with it.”

Haldir shook his head incredulously, convinced that Rúmil had lost his mind. “My dear, delirious brother, you couldn’t be further off the mark with this. You weren’t there, you didn’t see her face. She was upset and came to my talan only to blame me for it. And she has always made it very clear that my attentions are wasted on her. She doesn’t want me to touch her, Rúmil.”

A strange smile came to Rúmil’s face. “Females are complicated creatures, brother,” he said philosophically. “Remember that.”

Had the circumstances been different, Haldir would probably have laughed and scoffed at Rúmil for being such a know-it-all, but his brother’s words had him thinking in spite of himself. The idea that Filanna might be jealous of his bedmates was outrageous, too farfetched to be true, and yet the possibility of it sent a thrill through his body both of fear and wild joy, two emotions that seemed to go hand in hand where Filanna was concerned.

Rúmil seemed to guess his thoughts, and he softly said, “It is no crime to like her, Haldir.”

“No crime, perhaps,” Haldir said glumly, “but I don’t seem to be getting much pleasure out of it, either. Even if she does find my company less disagreeable than I have assumed thus far, she far prefers Orophin’s. She doesn’t trust me one bit, and last night-- well, let’s not go into detail about that. Suffice it to say that I have done something that has probably annihilated every chance of her ever trusting me.”

“Oh, dear.” Rúmil sighed. “You are not exactly making things easier for yourself, are you?”

Haldir said nothing. Everything Rúmil said was true, of course; he had handled this whole situation with Filanna badly from the very beginning and he would give much for a chance to go back and do it all over, but the damage had been done, and despite Rúmil’s optimistic words, at this moment it seemed unlikely that she would ever let him come near her again.

“Listen, I have an idea,” Rúmil said. “Let’s go fetch the horses and head out, you and me. No better way to get rid of those cobwebs.”

“What, right now?”

“Why not? No time like the present.”

Haldir found the proposal rather appealing, but hesitated to accept. He never forsook duty for fun, but he also realized that his pupils were better off without him today.

“And Orophin?” he said.

“Don’t worry about him. If I know our little brother, he is probably having far too much fun impressing those recruits. In fact, I think he’d be disappointed to see you return.” Rúmil smiled and added, “Besides, it is probably best if the two of you stay out of each other’s sight for a little while.”

As the two brothers headed for the stables, their conversation returned to safer topics. It was one of Rúmil’s talents to know when to stop asking questions, and for that Haldir was grateful. He only hoped that he wouldn’t run into Filanna at the stables, for that was a confrontation he could definitely do without. Perhaps, he mused, perhaps it was only fortunate that he was to leave for the border the next day-- though he knew from experience that a male never longed for the warmth of a female’s body more than when at the fences of Lothlórien.

xxx

Filanna’s morning was hardly any better than Haldir’s. After lying awake most of the night, she had overslept and gotten a frown of displeasure from Felegron for being much too late for work. She hadn’t even minded it very much-- her thoughts were miles away. She set to her tasks, but she did them perfunctorily and without a trace of her normal enthusiasm. For the first time, it felt like she was just doing a job and nothing more.

“You are so quiet today, Filanna,” another elf of the staff said to her. “Even for your standards. And you look a bit pale, if you don’t mind me saying. Wild night out last night?”

Filanna gave a watery smile and mumbled something about not having slept so well. She had no desire whatsoever to speak of the things that had transpired the night before, and thankfully no more questions were asked.

Morning dragged by, but when the sound of the midday bell came at last, Filanna did not look up from the saddle she was waxing. Due to her lateness, she would be expected to stay until Felegron told her she could leave.

He came sooner than she expected, looking much friendlier than he had that morning. “Go home, Filanna,” he said. “Your heart is clearly not into it today.”

“No, I’m sorry,” she said. “This day was doomed from the start. Tomorrow will be better, I hope.”

He looked sympathetic. “Problems, Filanna? Anything you want to talk about?”

“No,” Filanna said, almost laughing at the idea. “No, I will sort it out myself, but thank you all the same.”

She cleared away her things and went to have a final look at a pregnant mare she had developed a rapport with, but got a little shock when she suddenly spotted Haldir and Rúmil a little further ahead. The brothers appeared not to have noticed her yet, but it was only a matter of time before they did. In an instinctive attempt to avoid a confrontation, she did the only thing she could think of-- she dove into the nearest stall, which thankfully was empty.

Even as she knelt down in the darkest corner of the stall, it occurred to her what a sight she must make, hiding away here in the hay, but having to look Haldir in the eye again, after last night, was something she just wasn’t prepared for yet. So she swallowed her pride and stayed put, praying that Haldir and Rúmil would leave quickly. Unfortunately, they only seemed to be getting closer.

“... have to say I am surprised,” she heard Rúmil say. “But given the situation, you probably made the right decision.”

“Good. At least one of us thinks so.” Haldir sighed. “One request, Rúmil. Do not speak to Orophin about what I just told you.”

“I already promised you my discretion. But he will find out sooner or later, Haldir, you know that as well as I do.”

“Of course. But the longer he remains unaware, the happier I’ll be.”

The brothers seemed to have come to a halt, not far from where Filanna was hiding. “Well, this is where I leave you, brother,” Rúmil said. “Drinks and cards at my place tonight?”

“Yes, I’ll be there,” Haldir replied. “And do remember to invite Orophin, as well. I want to hear with my own ears how he fared after I left him in charge of those fledglings.”

Filanna then heard the sound of footsteps moving away, but it was only one pair, which meant that Haldir was still near. She remained very still, praying that he too would leave. If he discovered her, he would not be fooled by her excuses; he would know instantly that she was hiding from him, and probably find great amusement in that fact.

Finally she heard him move, but instead of heading for the exit, he seemed to be approaching one of the boxes across the aisle. Breathlessly she waited, ears propped up.

“So you are Mithrenfin,” she heard him say, and her heart skipped a beat. Was he talking to her horse? She was sorely tempted to take a peek, but did she dare it?

Feeling absolutely ridiculous, she crouched along the wooden partition that separated her stall from the adjoining one, keeping as low as she could. She positioned herself on her heels just behind the door and peered over it, spotting Haldir immediately. He was indeed standing in front of Mithrenfin’s box, petting her horse, who had come curiously forward and was sniffing Haldir’s clothing in search of snacks.

“I have heard much about you,” she heard Haldir say. “You are Filanna’s pride and joy, do you know that?”

Mithrenfin, realizing that Haldir’s attire held no treats for him, raised his head and seemed to be giving the strange elf in front of him an assessing look. Haldir, who was still stroking the muscled grey neck, sighed and said, “What am I to think of your mistress? Do you have some words of advice? Because I think I have run out of options, and you know her better than I probably ever will.”

Filanna sat as if frozen, unaware that she was holding her breath. It felt odd, improper even, to sit here eavesdropping when he believed himself to be alone. Without knowing it, he was giving her a glimpse into his private thoughts, and she was at once embarrassed and enthralled.

“I wish I knew what is going on in that head of hers,” Haldir continued. “Perhaps that would help me understand what it is about me that is so disagreeable to her. But as it is, I just seem to keep stepping on her toes with every move I make.”

Haldir’s confessions failed to make an impression on Mithrenfin. The stallion, who was fond of petting but even fonder of food, was quickly losing interest in the empty-handed elf in favour of the oats he had been given for lunch. Even from across the corridor, Filanna could see the first signs of impatience in her horse’s body language.

Haldir apparently picked up on them too, because he chuckled and said, “I am boring you, aren’t I? I understand; my problems are no concern of yours, after all.” He gave Mithrenfin a final pat. “I’ll leave you to enjoy your lunch in peace, then.”

With that he turned away and left. It was a good thing that he didn’t look back, for Filanna completely forgot to duck and hide, so stunned was she by what she had heard.

After he had left, she slowly turned around so that her back rested against the wooden door, and slid down until she sat on the floor. She no longer cared whether anyone might see her, because her mind was filled the things she had just heard. For the very first time she had been granted a peek into Haldir’s mind, a glimpse of what lurked behind that mask of self-assured arrogance-- and she was unsettled by it, largely because she knew she was the one responsible for his glum mood. It only added to the guilty feelings that had been eating at her since yesterday, and forced her to reform her opinion of him... yet again.

Haldir had just, unbeknownst to himself, handed her the answer to the question that had plagued her all night. As difficult as it would be, she now knew exactly what she had to do-- and since Haldir was due to leave the next morning, it had to be done today.

xxx

That evening, Filanna once again found herself walking the route to Haldir’s talan, this time with the heavy burden of guilt and fear on her shoulders. Guilt, because she had been insensitive and hurt Haldir’s feelings, and fear because she wasn’t sure whether he would accept her apology. She wanted it to be over and done with as soon as possible, so when her repeated knocking remained unanswered, her anxiousness increased considerably. For a moment she was at a loss as to what to do, but then she suddenly remembered the conversation she had overheard between Haldir and Rúmil, which had ended with the latter inviting Haldir to his talan for card games and drinks.

Unfortunately, she had no idea where Rúmil lived, so she wandered around until she found someone who was able to point her in the direction of his talan. He answered the door himself, and greeted her with obvious surprise.

“Hello, Rúmil,” she said timidly. “I’m sorry for disturbing, but… is Haldir with you?”

“He is, as a matter of fact, and so is Orophin.” Smiling cordially, he opened the door wider in invitation. “Do you play cards?”

“No, er, thank you, Rúmil, but...” She shifted on her feet uncomfortably. “If you don’t mind, I would like to speak to Haldir for a moment. Privately.”

Rúmil arched an eyebrow, in a manner that was uncannily similar to Haldir’s. Her request clearly roused his curiosity, but he was gentlemanly enough to refrain from asking further questions. “Of course, I’ll fetch him. You will wait out here?”

She nodded, and Rúmil went inside. Filanna remained anxiously behind. She had no idea how Haldir would react when he saw her, but whatever he might say or do, she was determined to have her say.

It seemed to take forever, and Filanna began to fear that he would refuse to speak to her, that Rúmil would return with some excuse and send her on her way. When Haldir did appear in the doorway at long last, his expression wasn’t unfriendly, but he didn’t look particularly glad to see her, either. She noted that the arrogant mask was firmly in place again; he looked aloof and incredibly superior, and if she didn’t know better, she would never have believed that this elf had any insecurities at all.

“Rúmil said you wished to speak to me?” he prompted, rather stand-offishly. She noticed that he kept a considerable distance this time, never crossing the threshold. His posture and body language oozed reserve, and Filanna’s already meager courage was dissipating rapidly.

“Yes, I do. I apologize for the intrusion, but...” She sighed. “Can you come outside for a moment? And close the door? There is something I have to say to you, about, uhm, last night. Something your brothers need not hear.”

A frown ghosted across his brow, and for a moment he looked as though he was going to refuse, but he gave no comment and did as she requested. As he stood there waiting for her to speak, his eyebrows raised questioningly, Filanna found herself tongue-tied and unsure how to proceed. She had rehearsed this speech at least a hundred times, but Haldir’s stare was so steely, and oh, why did he have to be so impossibly tall? He looked so intimidating and stern, looking down at her like that.

“Haldir,” she began, “I have come to apologize for my behaviour last night. It was inexcusable and uncalled for, and I truly am sorry for acting the way I did. I was upset and I took it out on you. I said things I didn’t mean, of which I am very ashamed, and... and I hope you can forgive me.” She took a breath. It was a shorter and slightly rushed version of the speech she had prepared, and she had delivered it in a shaky voice, but she meant every word.

Something in Haldir’s face changed, his features and his eyes softening ever so slightly. “You came to apologize,” he said, sounding a little taken aback. Had he expected something different? That she had come to simply continue their argument where they’d left off?

“Yes, and not only for last night, but for everything.” She lowered her eyes. “I have been unkind to you on more than one occasion. In fact, I think I have been a total harpy most of the time, and for that I am sorry too. You have done nothing to deserve such treatment. And... and I am also here to say that despite appearances, I would really like us to be friends.”

Haldir’s lips twitched. “Do you?”

“Yes, that is... if you want to,” she said timidly. “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, but… I would really like for us to start over. Do you think we can do that?”

For a few long, agonizing moments Haldir looked at her without saying a word, his expression unfathomable. It was impossible to determine what he was thinking, or what he would say, and Filanna nervously awaited the verdict.

_Please, oh please don’t laugh. Do anything, say anything, but please don’t laugh at me._

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, he gave her a slight smile and said, “Of course we can.”

“Really?” Filanna gave a wide smile of relief. “Oh, thank you, Haldir, thank you! I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. I was afraid I had ruined everything. The things I said to you yesterday...” She shifted on her feet, the smile fading on her lips. “You must think me such a horrible person.”

“No,” he said slowly. “No, Filanna, I do not think that.”

“You don’t?”

“No, and you shouldn’t, either.” His lips, again, curved into an almost imperceptible smile. “You do have a temper, Filanna, but that does not make you a bad person. You possess many good traits as well, and when you aren’t glaring daggers at me or calling me names, I find you perfectly amiable.”

“Ouch.” She laughed in spite of herself. “Well, I guess I deserved that one, didn’t I?”

He gave a shake of his head. “You should not shoulder all the blame. I did not exactly behave my best either last night, and mistakes were made on both sides.”

“I suppose so.” Filanna blushed slightly. He meant the kiss, that was obvious. What else could he be referring to? Although she wasn’t at all surprised to hear him say that, Filanna could not help but feel a twinge of regret. Of course, the circumstances had been far from ideal, she would be the first to admit that, and she would rather it had never happened at all; but it had, and she did not think that any elleth would like being told that her first kiss had been a ‘mistake’.

Her gaze dropped involuntarily to his mouth. She had never really taken note of it before, but it was as extraordinary as the rest of his face. His upper lip seemed thin in comparison to his bottom lip, which was full and sensuous, his nose was too large and his dark eyebrows did not match his pale silver hair; and yet she did not think she had ever seen a face more handsome, more enthralling than his. Even now, at this very moment, she was held mesmerized by that observant grey gaze-- which, thankfully, now seemed a little friendlier than before.

“I have something to say as well,” Haldir said. “I did not lie last night when I said that I care about you, Filanna, for that has truly been the driving force behind everything I have done with regard to you. If my interferences have displeased you, I apologize; but I truly had your best interest at heart.”

“Oh, Haldir, I know that...” Filanna started saying, but he had not finished speaking yet.

“It is true that I have been avoiding your company lately,” he continued. “But I did so because I thought that was how you preferred it. You never seemed to appreciate my presence very much, and I thought that by leaving you alone I was doing you a favour. It did not occur to me that you might take offense.”

“I _do_ appreciate your company,” Filanna said, blushing, “and if I have given you a different impression, then I have been greatly at fault. We did get off on the wrong foot, and it’s true that I don’t always know how to react when you tease me, but... but I do like you. Can we turn over a new page, and start fresh? I would like to spend time with you now and then, and get to know you better-- if that is agreeable to you.”

“It is.”

“Good.” Filanna sighed. “I have one condition, though.”

“Don’t worry,” Haldir said with a wry smile. “I will not try to kiss you again.”

“Oh. Oh, but... that is not what I meant.” Filanna blushed again. “What I meant to say was... that I don’t want you to think you need to walk on eggshells around me, Haldir. I mean... you have been behaving so oddly lately, so unlike yourself; so polite and humorless and... dull.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Dull?”

“In a manner of speaking,” she said quickly. “I’m guessing it was because you did not want to cause further conflicts, but I did not care for it at all. I want you to be able to be yourself, Haldir. So please, do not spare me, and jest and tease me all you want.”

One corner of his mouth crawled slowly upwards. “Are you certain, princess? You may come to regret that, you know.”

“Not at all,” Filanna said with conviction. “It will be good for me. I am much too sensitive, too short-tempered, and that needs to change. I want to become a better person, and a much better friend to you than I have been thus far.”

“That is very admirable, Filanna,” he said gently, “and I applaud the initiative, but pray do not strive to change your ways too radically. You too must stay true to what you are.”

“And what am I, exactly?” she inquired with a slight smile. “An unworldly, judgmental hothead who hurts and repels those who mean well by her?”

“No, a temperamental, strong-willed and talented elleth whose main flaw is that she thinks too little of herself. We all have our shortcomings, Filanna. I myself have many; I do not possess Rúmil’s tact, or Orophin’s lightheartedness, and they both have a better understanding of the female mind than I ever will, but I try to learn from their example.” He gave a smile. “As for my other shortcomings... you will find out what they are in due time, I fear.”

“Well,” Filanna said, a little taken aback by Haldir’s humble words, “I will wager that your brothers could learn a thing or two from you as well.”

He nodded slowly. “Fair play, for one,” he said with a little smile. “I am sorry, Filanna, I do not mean to be rude, but I should probably return to my brothers before they are tempted to look at my cards-- if they haven’t done so already. Varda knows they are capable of it.”

“Honestly?” she said with a laugh. “Where Orophin is concerned, I gladly believe you, but Rúmil? He seems so... dependable.”

“Games tend to bring out the worst in him.” Haldir was silent for a few moments, his gaze thoughtful. At length he said, “I leave for the fences tomorrow.”

“I know. Perhaps we can spend some time together when you return?” Filanna proposed shyly. “I would like to go hiking with you, if that offer still stands. This is the right season for it.”

“We’ll see,” he said, not unkindly. “There is no rush, is there? There will be another summer next year.”

“Next year?” Filanna was unable to hide her disappointment completely. She had secretly hoped for a little more enthusiasm than this. “Who says I’ll still be in Lórien then?”

“Oh, I have a feeling that you will.” He took her hand and bestowed a courteous kiss upon it. “And if I am wrong, I shall be sorely disappointed. Good night, Filanna.”

Later, reflecting on this conversation as she made her way back to her talan, Filanna could not help but feel torn. Certainly, she was content with the way things had unfolded, and relieved that he had accepted her apologies; but the ease with which he discarded their kiss as a mere accident bothered her more than she had anticipated. Was it truly that easy for him to forget what had happened, to make friends with someone he had held in his arms and kissed so gently the previous night? Did it mean that little to him? And why, why would that thought bother her?

Deep down inside she knew why it did. After all, this kiss had been her first, and therefore it meant something to _her_ , whether she wanted it to or not. Haldir, however, clearly considered the whole thing to be irrelevant, and it seemed rather unfair that she was now the one fretting when she hadn’t even asked to be kissed in the first place. She had never really given much thought to what this milestone would be like, but now, to her great shame and embarrassment, she couldn’t stop wondering what might have happened if... yes, if she had returned the kiss. Such thoughts served no purpose at all, except to make her even more confused, but she found she had very little control over where her thoughts strayed these days.

The same could actually be said of her feet, for she was so lost in thought that she had paid no attention to where she was heading. Rúmil’s talan was located in a part of the city she did not know that well, but she did not worry about getting lost. She had gotten used to the city’s complicated infrastructure, and did not understand now how she ever could have thought that all pathways and bridges in Caras Galadhon looked alike. Every corner, every talan was unique in its own right, and the sight of the city at night was magical, like a picture out of a fairytale book. Filanna inhaled the rich, fragrant evening air and let her fingers slide over the rugged bark of a mallorn tree as she descended one of the many winding stairs, her attention momentarily drawn away from her musings by the spectacular view.

She did not notice the slender figure in white until the very last moment.


	13. Secrets Kept, Truths Revealed

Upon returning to the parlor, Haldir found Rúmil alone there, balancing precariously on the two hind legs of his chair and building a house of cards on the table.

“Where is Orophin?” Haldir asked, glancing about the room.

“He went into the kitchen for a drink of water a while ago, but unless my instinct deceives me, he is on the balcony right now flirting shamelessly with the elleth next door.” Rúmil took a card from the stack in his left hand and let it dance between his fingers before placing it carefully on the fragile structure before him. “Interesting picture, isn't it? My older brother with an elleth at the front door, my younger brother with an elleth at the back door, and me and my bottle of liquor in the middle. If that isn’t prophetic, I don’t know what is.”

Haldir sat down. “Your envy is unnecessary, Rúmil. I can’t speak for Orophin, but Filanna and I weren’t doing anything of significance.”

“Uh oh.” Frowning, Rúmil swung his weight forward, landing on all four legs of his chair with a thud. “I detect bitterness. Bad news? I was so sure she wanted to make amends with you.”

“She did.” Haldir picked up his abandoned cards. “I assumed she came here to pick another fight, but I was wrong. She was very contrite and apologetic. She practically begged me to forgive her for everything she has done wrong since the moment she set foot in Lórien.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

Haldir looked up from his cards briefly. “She also said she wants us to be friends.”

“Ouch.” Rúmil made a face and was silent for a few moments. “Granted, it is not exactly what we were hoping for, but it could have been worse. Given the rather catastrophic nature of your relationship so far, friendship can only mean improvement, I would say. And it wouldn’t be the first time camaraderie blossomed into something more–”

“Leave it, Rúmil.” Haldir raised a weary hand, abruptly cutting off his brother’s speech. “I know you mean well, but please, stop. There is no point. She is not attracted to me, end of story.”

Rúmil looked appalled. “Are you telling me you give up?”

Haldir shrugged. “Do you have a better idea?”

Not responding right away, Rúmil gave his brother a long and thoughtful look. “Tell me one thing, Haldir, and speak true. Do you like this elleth, yes or no?”

“I do, but–”

“Then fight for her!” Rúmil leaned forward, his right hand balled into a fist and a passionate glitter in his eyes. “Throw yourself into the arena of love and give everything to win the fair maiden’s heart.”

Haldir lifted an eyebrow. Over the years, he had learned to expect such phrases from his brother’s lips, but they never ceased to amuse him. “Rúmil,” he said, and he could not help but laugh a little, “you are my brother and I love you, but you have some hopelessly romantic views, do you know that?”

Rúmil slowly lowered his fist, sighing. “And you, my brother, are a rationalist and a stoic. How is it possible that we are related?”

“I am only being realistic, Rúmil,” Haldir said tiredly, rubbing a hand across his brow. “She has made her point very clearly, and I must find a way to prove to her that I can be trusted, before I do anything else. To set my hopes on more than that would be foolish.”

Rúmil crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What about Bereth and the others? Are you still going to end your relations with them?”

Haldir looked away, frowning at his cards. “Yes,” he growled. He was far from happy about the situation, but he had not come to the decision lightly and knew that he would have to follow it through. The princess had gotten under his skin. He could sleep with other ellith all he wanted but it did nothing to satisfy that hunger deep within, an obsession growing in his heart like a weed, the seed of which had been planted there on the day he first laid eyes on her. As much as it pained him, it seemed like a wiser thing to stop seeing females altogether for the time being, stop driving himself insane seeking a gratification he knew he wasn’t going to get-- and wait for this hopeless infatuation to wear off.

“Very admirable. But what a bitter disappointment it will be for them.” Rúmil grinned. “Are you going to explain why they are being evicted from your bed?”

Haldir shrugged again. “What would I tell them?”

“The truth, perhaps. That your eye has fallen on another elleth and that you would rather abstain than live with the guilt of betraying her. That their embrace can satisfy you no longer and that only hers will suffice.” Rúmil’s voice grew soft, sympathetic. “Because that is the reason, isn’t it?”

Haldir shot him a look. “If you are so sure of yourself, then why should I even bother to answer that?”

Rúmil was silent for a moment, tapping his fingers on the table. “Am I to conclude from your hostile reaction that you don’t want to talk about it?”

“That is correct.”

Rúmil sighed. “I respect your privacy, Haldir, but would it hurt you to be a little more communicative? More than half of the time there is no telling what is going on in that head of yours. You and Orophin are almost each other’s opposites in that respect. He sometimes tells me more than I want to hear and you hardly ever tell me anything.” He paused, looking at Haldir until it became clear that no response was forthcoming. “But I will let the topic rest, if that is what you truly want.”

“Yes, Rúmil, that is what I want.” Haldir too heaved a sigh. “And please, do not speak of these things to anyone, least of all...”

“Least of all to Filanna, I know. I already promised you that, and I keep my promises.” Rúmil placed two more cards on the tower in front of him and then laughed softly. “Still, you have to give her credit for coming here and apologizing to you, Haldir. Say about her what you will, but that elleth has some grit.”

“She does,” Haldir agreed. “And I never said I wasn’t appreciative. Filanna is proud and headstrong, and to be frank, I did not think her capable of admitting her mistakes. I am glad to be proven wrong.”

At this point a door was thrown open and Orophin burst into the room with his usual exuberant flair, filling the room instantly with his presence and bringing with him the rich fragrance of the sultry forest night. Haldir and Rúmil’s conversation was cut short by their youngest sibling’s appearance, and the sudden inflow of air caused by his stormy entrance meant the end for Rúmil’s house of cards as well. It collapsed pitifully, scattering cards all over the table, the floor, and Rúmil’s lap.

The middle brother looked at Orophin with a disgruntled expression on his face. “Typical!”

Orophin was oblivious to the havoc his entrance had wrought. “Have I kept you waiting?” he said cheerfully, slumping onto his chair none too gracefully. “I am sorry, Rúmil, but I was struck by the beauty of the view from your balcony. I simply had to go out and admire it, and an interesting thought occurred to me as I was doing so.”

“I am sure it did,” Rúmil drawled as he started picking up cards.

“What do you say, brother,” Orophin went on with a grin, “would you consider trading houses with me?”

Rúmil sat up slowly. “Hmm, let me visualize that for a moment. You get the talan with the pretty neighbour and I get the talan with the decaying, termite-infested roof.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “There must be some sort of catch to this.”

Orophin laughed. “I beg your pardon? My roof is in perfect shape, thank you very much.”

“Well, it is _now_ , no thanks to you,” Rúmil countered. “The termites would still be munching away happily if it wasn’t for Filanna, or has it conveniently slipped your mind that it was her idea in the first place?”

“As a matter of fact it hasn’t, brother dear, and should I ever get in danger of forgetting it, I have no doubt that you’ll be right there to remind me.” Orophin grinned and turned to Haldir. “Speaking of Filanna... what did she want, our lovely princess?”

Haldir exchanged a quick glance with Rúmil before replying, “She came to make amends.”

“Ah, good. And have you?”

Haldir merely nodded.

“Excellent!” Orophin clapped his hands, smiling broadly. “I knew the two of you would work things out eventually. So that means you can finally stop being such a sourpuss, Haldir; that long face we’ve had to look at all day was hardly flattering on you.” He glanced around the room as if looking for something. “But... has neither of you thought of asking her to join us?”

“Filanna has better things to do than playing cards and drinking with three pitiful types like us,” Rúmil cut in, and he planted the stack of cards in front of his younger brother. “Here, why don’t you take these and make yourself useful.”

Orophin stared at the pile of cards, realization sinking in slowly. “What? But we hadn’t finished the last round yet!”

“Think, brother. We were interrupted during the game and some of us left the room.” Rúmil winked secretly at Haldir. “In battle I trust you both with my life, but when it comes to cards, it's a different matter."

Orophin eyed him darkly. “Correct me if I am wrong, but as far as I know you are the only one who has been left alone with the cards, Rúmil.”

Rúmil adopted his best innocent look. “Just deal, will you?”

Grumbling, Orophin did as he was asked. “This is so not fair,” he muttered. “Just when I had the winning hand for a change.”

“That is such bluff, brother!” Rúmil huffed. “You had a lousy hand; Haldir had the winning one.” He shut his mouth abruptly when he saw Orophin’s smug expression, realizing belatedly what he had been tricked into saying. Then he burst into laughter. “Oh! I cannot believe I fell for that cheap trick!”

Haldir shook his head in exasperation. “You are hopeless.”

“I completely agree with Haldir.” Orophin gave Rúmil a look of disgust. “You are a disgrace to the family, Rúmil, and I am ashamed to call you my brother. Bah, cheating. I cannot believe you have sunk so deeply–”

Haldir rose from his chair. “Enough,” he said impatiently. “You are worse than bickering children, both of you. Now, I am going to pour us some more wine, and I want to see those cards dealt and ready when I return. And Orophin...”

“Yes, Haldir?”

“That includes those five cards hidden in your sleeves.”

xxx

“Good evening, Filanna.” The voice was deep yet melodious, regal and awe-inspiring like its owner.

“My lady Galadriel.” Unsure how to greet the Lady, who had appeared before her so unexpectedly, Filanna eventually settled on a small curtsey. “Good evening.”

“That was a very brave thing you did tonight.”

Filanna looked up in bewilderment, blanching when she saw the Lady’s smile. Of course-- it was widely known that Galadriel had her ways to stay informed of what was going on in her realm and in the lives of those under her reign; but until this very moment, Filanna had not realized that the goings-on in _her_ personal life would be subject to the Lady’s scrutiny also.

Seeing Filanna’s alarmed expression, Galadriel released a soft laugh. “Do not be startled, dear. I know what you fear, but be assured, I have no intention of finding out the details of what happened between Haldir and you. But I do know that the two of you had a... shall we call it a falling-out?” A twinkle appeared in Galadriel’s eye. “And I also know that you were the first to apologize, which is worthy of praise.”

Filanna coloured. “I did only what I thought was right.”

“The right course of action is not always the easiest,” Galadriel said earnestly. “Do not speak so lightly of your actions, Filanna; what you did tonight took courage.”

Filanna stared at her feet. “I fear I am not at all courageous, my lady. In fact, I am often cowardly and weak-- but in this case I had no choice. I owed Haldir my apologies, and there was no time to delay. I could not let him leave for the border without having made amends. It would not have been fair to him.”

Galadriel nodded. She was smiling but her eyes were attentive, as if peering directly into Filanna’s soul. “Yes, you have a strong sense of justice and you are honest. Those are admirable traits.”

Filanna’s blush deepened. “Truly, you praise me too highly. I have not at all behaved admirably, to that Haldir can testify. I have been unkind and ungracious to him, and had I not apologized, I fear I might have lost his esteem for good.”

This seemed to take Galadriel by surprise. “There, you are mistaken,” she said kindly. “It is not in Haldir’s nature to be spiteful, and he would not hold one mistake against you, Filanna. He is too good a judge of character for that.”

“I have made more than one mistake,” Filanna said gravely. “I have treated him ill from the very beginning, while it was never deserved.”

Galadriel studied her for a few moments in contemplative silence. “Your opinion of him has changed, then?”

Filanna nodded. “Haldir and I may not always agree, and there are times when he really ruffles my feathers, but the more time I spend with him, the more I realize...” She paused, struggling to find the right words. “... The more I realize that he is a good elf, worthy of my regard.”

Galadriel smiled, her observant gaze never wavering. “What a difference a few months make,” she said softly, almost as though speaking to herself. “I see quite a different Filanna before me than when I met you first. Already you demonstrate more maturity and confidence, both in manner and in speech.”

Filanna blushed again, with pleasure this time. “Your ladyship is most kind. I do feel I have changed since I came to Lórien; but I realize every day how much there still is for me to learn. I still make so many mistakes.”

Galadriel laughed warmly. “Thank the Valar for that! After all, without mistakes there can be no growth, no learning. We all err from time to time, even the oldest and the wisest among us. I can guarantee you that.”

Filanna nodded, and, giving in to a sudden urge, stepped forward, seized Galadriel’s hand and kissed it. “Thank you, my lady, thank you for everything. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for all that you have done for me. I have not forgotten that I owe all this to you.”

“That is hardly true,” Galadriel said, giving Filanna’s hand a little squeeze. “I have concocted a plan and made a few simple arrangements, but after that my part was done. No one is responsible for the way you lead your life but you, dear.”

“Still, I feel indebted to you, my lady,” Filanna said. “If only there was a way to express my gratitude, to repay you for your kindness...”

“Dear child,” Galadriel said with a shake of her head, “laudable though the sentiment may be, I assure you that nothing can please me more than your happiness. Truly, I cannot imagine a better reward. You are happy, aren’t you?”

Filanna released Galadriel’s hand. “Yes, my lady, very much so.”

“Good.” Galadriel smiled and tilted her head, her gaze growing thoughtful. “And yet there is something that causes you concern, isn’t there?”

The smile fell from Filanna’s lips and she eyed Galadriel in alarm. “What do you mean?”

Galadriel moved away, giving a nod of her golden head. “Come, let us walk while I tell you a little story.”

Filanna complied without protest, falling into step with the Lady of Light, though she felt puzzled and a little apprehensive. “What kind of story?”

“A story about you.” The look of growing confusion on Filanna’s face made Galadriel smile, and she paused briefly. “As a descendant of a long line of kings, you were born to certain privileges, but an ancestry like yours comes with disadvantages as well. For one, it can be very isolating, which I think is something you experienced firsthand growing up. But with the passing of the years, you learned to accept that isolation, even to welcome it, as it offered the safety and the comfort you craved.”

A smile flitted across Galadriel’s face. “I knew your father long before you were born, dear, and I have paid enough visits to his realm to know that he runs a boisterous, but stable household, a warm and loving environment for a child to grow up in. You were loved and doted on, and this was enough to compensate for the lack of friendships in your life, at least for a while. Am I right so far?”

Filanna nodded slowly, not meeting Galadriel’s eyes. The narration was uncannily accurate, and she had a strong feeling that the Lady was only just getting started.

“But as you grew older,” Galadriel went on, “you became aware of your seclusion, and realized there was something missing. I think you looked for ways to fill that void, tried to reach out to people outside the family circle, but seeing how slow you are to trust and how suspicious of those who mean well by you, my guess is that you were disappointed in some way, probably even hurt. As a result, you erected a wall around you, to shield yourself from the pain of rejection. Inside that wall is your own territory, your sacred little domain, on which only a select few are allowed to venture.” Galadriel paused briefly and then said, “You are particularly close with your youngest brother, are you not?”

Filanna nodded again. “Legolas is very dear to me.”

“Legolas, indeed.” Galadriel smiled, perhaps because she was recalling her first and only encounter with the youngest Prince of Mirkwood. “Given the very narrow gap between your ages, I do not doubt that the two of you were inseparable as children, and as long as you both were underage, you were never lacking companionship.”

Filanna did not know why, but her lower lip had started to quiver, and she bit hard on it in an attempt to make it stop.

“But being a male, Legolas had options that were not available to you. Destined for the soldierly life, he began his military schooling once he reached the proper age, a path down which you could not follow him. At the same time, as you came of age, you discovered that adulthood came with limitations. Society, after all, expects more and tolerates less from us once we are of age, and this was especially true in your case. You found that the role you were expected to play as an adult fitted you ill. Your adventurous spirit was no longer allowed to run free, and the safe and sheltered world you had always known became a prison of sorts. But, being blessed with a formidable own will, you refused to be constrained and play by the rules-- much to the frustration of some people, your father’s stewards not the least of them.”

Filanna coloured, and Galadriel looked amused. “Mind you, I am not passing judgment on you, Filanna. You have a strong will like I said, you sail your own course, and truth be told, I rather appreciate a rebellious spirit. But your independence has also made you lonely. You were clearly not a happy elleth when you came to Lórien.” A teasing spark appeared in Galadriel’s eye when she added, “And the fact that you were being dragged here against your will didn’t help much, did it?”

Filanna was mortified. “Did my father tell you that?”

“He didn’t need to. Your face spoke more clearly than a thousand words could have done. You weren’t particularly looking forward to meeting the Galadhrim, were you?”

“I was scared to death actually,” Filanna confessed, looking away.

“And what was it that you were so afraid of?”

Filanna thought this one over. “I suppose... I suppose I was afraid they wouldn’t like me. Afraid of being rejected, like you said. But when I came here, it was so different from what I expected. The people I meet have never been anything but kind and welcoming, and I have made a few female friends who have become quite dear to me.”

Galadriel nodded. “And males?”

Something about Galadriel’s voice caused Filanna to look up in alarm. “What do you mean?”

“It has not escaped my attention that you have become good friends with Orophin, and that pleases me. But a pretty elleth like you cannot have gone unnoticed by the Galadhrim, and I would be very surprised if there aren’t a few males out there who are interested in more than friendship. I wonder how you feel about that idea.”

Filanna blushed to the very roots of her hair, and a terrifying thought darted through her mind: _Haldir!_ Did the Lady know more than she claimed she did?

“I... er... I don’t know, my lady,” she stuttered eventually. “It’s not something I am used to. The only male companionship I’ve ever had was that of my brothers, and I’ve never desired anything else. Though lately... er...” She fell silent and blushed even harder.

“Yes?”

“Though lately that seems to be changing,” Filanna completed, not without difficulty. These feelings had been haunting her for some time now, but she had stubbornly refused to acknowledge them or even dwell on them in thought. The Lady had pulled the words out of her, however, and in all her life she had never felt so embarrassed, or so ignorant.

“And this obviously concerns you,” Galadriel observed.

Filanna nodded unhappily. “You probably don’t understand–”

“On the contrary, I understand very well,” Galadriel said gently. “You are not the first to feel this way, Filanna, and trust me, you won’t be the last either. I know this, because I was once very much like you.”

Filanna felt her eyebrows fly upwards, her expression one of incredulity. “With all due respect, my lady, but I find that very hard to believe.”

“But it is the truth.” Galadriel gave her a smile. “I too hail from a large family, though not quite as large as yours, and I too was the youngest child. And like you, I grew up with older brothers, four of them, whom I adored and looked up to. I was the only elleth, but Finarfin, my father, always used to say that I might as well have been his fifth son. I was not at all ladylike in my early years, and I fear I must have been quite a disappointment to my mother, who worried about my welfare a great deal, and with good reason.” She smiled again at the recollection. “I had a reputation for falling out of trees, tearing my clothes and generally getting myself into all sorts of trouble.”

“Really?” Filanna tried to imagine a younger, much less dignified Galadriel according to the picture the Lady painted, but found it very difficult.

“It was a long time ago. What I am hoping to illustrate with this is that what you are feeling is not abnormal, Filanna, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You have inherited a strong spirit, which is not something that should be thought of as a burden. Some might call you unladylike, but you are still a female and it is only natural that you are beginning to see males in a different light. It is a sign that you are coming of age emotionally. Welcome it.”

Filanna stared hard at the floor. “You are making it sound so easy.”

“I never said that it was. I am only hoping to make you see that although your concern is certainly understandable, it is unnecessary. Changes can be frightening, but it is unwise to swim against the current for fear of change; true wisdom lies in the ability to surrender to the flow of time, and to welcome every bend in the river. Only through experience can we learn and grow.”

Filanna nodded slowly, seeing the truth and wisdom in these words. “Thank you for your advice, my lady. And...” She hesitated. “And thank you for caring.”

“I care for all whom fate has entrusted to me,” Galadriel said earnestly. They halted, and the Lady put her hand on Filanna’s shoulder. “This is where we part, for now. But remember, you can come to Celeborn and me whenever the need arises.”

“Thank you, my lady, but... before you go, may I ask you something?”

“Of course you may.”

“How is it possible that you know so much about me?” Filanna coloured. “Everything you said about me was true. Has my father told you things, or... or is it all because of your powers...?”

Galadriel laughed quietly. “I would be lying if I said that I did not get some information from both sources. But I have also learned much through simple observation, and... well, female instinct can go a long way.”

Filanna bit her lip thoughtfully. “And there is something else...”

“Yes?”

“I just wondered… Your brothers, where are they now?”

“Ah yes, I half expected that question.” Galadriel smiled again, but this time her smile had a sad tinge. “They were all lost in battle, many years ago.”

“Oh.” Filanna lowered her eyes. “I am sorry.”

“No need to look so sad, dear. My father, with whom I hope to be reunited one day, still lives in Valinor, and although my brothers reside in the Halls of Mandos now, they might in time be reborn. That is my hope at least.”

“That is my hope also.” Filanna thought of her family back in Mirkwood and suddenly missed them painfully. Was she a bad daughter and sister for not thinking of them more often? She had not even written them a letter in all these weeks-- not a single one.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Galadriel said lightly, interrupting her guilty thoughts. “I have some news that will interest you. My powers, as you call them, have recently revealed to me that a surprise might be in your near future.”

“A surprise?” Filanna’s curiosity was sparked. “A pleasant one, I hope?”

“I think you will not be disappointed.” Galadriel smiled mysteriously and gave Filanna a reassuring nod. “Good night, my dear.”

And with those words, she turned and vanished just as soundlessly as she had appeared earlier that night.

xxx

“He did _what_? Say that again!”

Filanna made a face. “How many times are you going to make me tell it, Gwenél? Haldir and I were arguing when all of a sudden he leaned forward and kissed me.”

It was the day after her conversation with Galadriel, and Filanna, Inis and Gwenél were lounging on the balcony of Inis’s talan, where the shadow offered welcome protection against the sun’s scorching rays. It was the hottest hour of the day, and Filanna and Gwenél were sipping their cold drinks, while Inis, who could never be idle, was stringing the beans for the evening meal, dropping them in a cooking pot on her lap. Feeling comfortable in the company of her two closest friends, Filanna had decided to let them in on her secret, though of course she had only given them a summary of that night’s events, and not dwelled on the exact circumstances of her fight with Haldir.

Gwenél was in a flurry of excitement over the news. “He actually kissed you? But how? Where?”

Filanna shrugged. “Does that matter?”

“Does it matter? Of course it matters! Did he kiss you on the cheek, on the mouth?”

“On the mouth, of course.” Filanna could not help but chuckle a little at this; she couldn’t imagine herself making a big fuss over a simple peck on the cheek.

“Mouth open or mouth closed?”

Filanna’s eyes widened. “ _Gwenél!”_

“What? You can’t just casually mention something like that and then withhold details, Filanna. How did he kiss you? Did he put his arms around you, did he touch your face? Did he use his tongue?”

Filanna shook her head, blushing a little. “No, no, none of that. It all happened very suddenly, and it was over before I knew it.” She glanced at Gwenél and added, “And no, there was no tongue involved.”

“He did not touch you at all?”

“Not until I almost fell down the stairs.” Filanna grimaced at the memory. “At that point he caught me and, well, I suppose you could say he was holding me, yes.”

Gwenél smiled dreamily. “What was that like?”

“That is beside the point!” Filanna made a gesture of impatience. “What I need you two to tell me is what I am supposed to think of the whole thing. You both know Haldir better than I.”

Gwenél and Inis exchanged a glance. “I fear that is hardly true, Filanna,” Inis said. It was the first time she actually spoke. “We may know him longer than you, but Haldir has always been difficult to fathom, and this is coming from someone who calls him friend.”

“But it was harmless, wasn’t it?” Filanna insisted, seeking reassurance. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“I honestly can’t say,” Inis said carefully. “The Valar know what he was thinking at that moment. But I do know one thing about Haldir: he is not the type of elf who goes around kissing ellith for no particular reason. He may have kissed you on an impulse but he would not have had that impulse if he hadn’t been thinking about it beforehand. So...” She gave Filanna a smile. “The explanation seems perfectly simple to me.”

“Does it?” Filanna gave Inis a blank-faced look.

“Don’t you get it, Filanna?” Gwenél, who was obviously in her element, laughed. “Haldir is sweet on you!”

Filanna, usually quick to blush, now felt the blood drain from her face. “No, that cannot be. There must be some other explanation.”

“Perhaps.” Inis put the cooking pot aside and wiped her hands on her apron. “But let us assume, just for a moment, that our guess is right and that Haldir does in fact have feelings for you. How would you feel about that?”

To avoid Inis’s questioning gaze, Filanna stared at the tips of her boots, playing with her glass. “Then we would have a problem on our hands. The idea of Haldir and me together is too ludicrous even to be considered.”

“Why?” Gwenél asked. “Why is it ludicrous?”

“Because... I don’t know.” Filanna shrugged helplessly, searching for words that would accurately describe what she felt. “I mean he... he is Haldir, and... I am me.”

Inis and Gwenél shared a puzzled glance. “I’m sorry, Filanna,” Gwenél said, “but you aren’t making any sense here. What is your point? Do you have something against Haldir?”

“No, I have nothing against him. It’s just...” Filanna sighed. “Haldir and I want different things, that is all. Anyway, it is water under the bridge. I went to him last night to make amends for our fight and we agreed to start fresh, as friends. I was just wondering what you two would make of it.”

Inis was still gazing at Filanna thoughtfully. “This may be a silly suggestion,” she said after a few moments’ silence, “but if you want an explanation so badly, why don’t you ask him for one yourself?”

Filanna looked doubtful. “I would rather not bring up the subject again, if I can avoid it. Besides, I already asked him something of the sort, right after it happened, and the answer I got didn’t make me any wiser.”

“What did he say?” Gwenél pressed.

Filanna shrugged. “That he was only claiming what I had been denying him, or something along those lines.”

“That doesn’t make sense to me,” Gwenél said with a frown. “What could he mean by that?”

“Ah, he was just saying that to provoke me, Gwenél.” Filanna lowered her eyes momentarily. “I gave him the cold shoulder when we first met, and it seems that I am going to be teased about that for all eternity.”

“What?” Gwenél regarded Filanna with an expression of utter bewilderment on her face. “Haldir has been making passes at you before? Why do we hear this _now_?”

“Because I am not really comfortable talking about it,” Filanna said hesitantly. “I was never quite sure what to think of it, and... well, Bereth was often here, and the others of course. Aelwen especially would never have left me in peace again.”

Inis shook her head. “Well, this does put things in a whole new perspective, Filanna. Are you actually telling us that Haldir has been gallanting you all this time?”

“I would not call it that, Inis.” Filanna felt herself blush. “It was only meaningless flirting, and no, he has not been doing it all this time. In fact, I thought it was a closed chapter, until... well, until two days ago.”

Gwenél’s expression suddenly turned sly. “So there _was_ some truth in the rumors after all. And to think that I believed you when you said nothing was going on!”

“Wait a moment,” Inis cut in. “What rumors are you talking about? Have I missed something?”

Gwenél clacked her tongue impatiently. “The rumors about Haldir and Filanna, of course. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard!”

Inis shrugged. “I have a household, work and a child to raise, which leaves me very little time to participate in gossip. But I expect my friends to keep me informed of the latest news, especially when it concerns one of us! Now tell me, what did those rumors say?”

“Oh, nothing of substance.” Gwenél glanced archly at Filanna. “It was mostly speculation and never really based on actual facts, but it _has_ been noticed that Haldir is to be found in Filanna’s presence remarkably often.”

Filanna sighed. “I really do not understand what is so remarkable about that. I have been spending much more time with Orophin than with Haldir, and besides, I will wager that Haldir has females swarming around him all the time.”

“Ah.” Gwenél leaned over confidentially, her smile broadening. “But in your case, _he_ is the one seeking _your_ company. And that makes all the difference, my dear.”

Filanna shook her head. “You are quite mistaken, Gwenél. Over the past few weeks, Haldir has been paying me very little attention, to the point where I started believing he had forgotten all about my existence. And...” As she was talking, she felt doubt close around her heart once more, and suddenly words were spilling over her lips like water. “I don’t know, I am so confused. Haldir is warm and gallant one moment, cool and distant the next. I never know what to expect from him. He said we could be friends, but he didn’t seem too thrilled about the prospect, so how do I know that is what he really wants? And then that kiss-- how does that fit into all of this? The harder I think about it, the less sense it makes.”

Inis put a hand on Filanna’s knee, a sympathetic look in her aquamarine blue eyes. “If this is how you feel, Filanna, then you must speak to Haldir about it. You are clearly having doubts, and that is not a good foundation to build any relationship on. I am sure that there is an explanation for all of these things, but you won’t get one unless you ask him for it.”

“I agree with Inis,” Gwenél said. “Haldir can be very guarded, infuriatingly so, but if you tell him how you feel, you will see that you have nothing to worry about. It was all probably just a misunderstanding.”

Filanna must have looked doubtful, for Inis chuckled and gave Filanna’s knee an encouraging squeeze. “It can’t hurt to try, Filanna. It is the only way to get some answers to your questions, and you needn’t be afraid of Haldir’s reaction. He can be a bit of a rascal sometimes, but he has a good heart. He will be respectful of your feelings.”

“I will think about it,” Filanna conceded with a sigh.

“Good.” Inis straightened up. “And next time you have concerns like this, you will come to us sooner, do you hear?”

“Yes, we are your friends,” Gwenél said quietly. “You can trust us, Filanna.”

“I know that.” Filanna smiled gratefully. “Thank you, both of you.”

Inis rose and went inside, taking the pan with her. Filanna and Gwenél remained behind in contented silence, enjoying the tiny rays of sunlight that caressed their faces, filtered by the canopy above. It was too warm even for the birds to be singing, but there was such peace in the air – every tree, every leaf seemed to breathe it – and the sweet summer breeze was so fragrant that Filanna soon felt her inner turmoil subside. Haldir had left for the fences that morning and would surely not return until the usual three weeks had gone by, which gave her more than enough time to think about what Inis and Gwenél had said and to ponder her next step. Comfortably leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to snooze. The monotonous buzzing of the insects was soothing like a lullaby.

But the peacefulness didn’t last. She soon heard voices coming from inside, and moments later Inis stepped out, holding a carafe that was filled to the rim with fresh lemonade. She was followed by a red-haired elleth in a light summer dress that clung to her comely form and floated around her legs.

“More lemonade, hurrah!” Gwenél said laughingly, sitting up. “Oh, hello, Bereth.”

“Hello,” Bereth said with a sunny smile. “What a nice surprise to find you two here! Do you have room for another overheated, thirsty elleth?”

“Of course! The more, the merrier.” Gwenél pushed herself up. “I will get you a chair.”

Bereth’s appearance dampened Filanna’s spirits considerably. Despite earlier attempts to reach at least some level of mutual friendliness, she was still uncomfortable in Bereth’s presence, even felt a certain hostility towards her.

“More lemonade, Filanna?”

Filanna looked up and was about to accept Inis’s offer when her eyes met those of Bereth and the words got stuck somewhere. Bereth was standing by the balustrade and looking at her with an odd expression on her face, one Filanna had never seen there before. There was curiosity in that gaze, as well as amusement-- and pity. And suddenly the truth struck Filanna like a bolt of lightning: Bereth was the one. It was Bereth who had been in bed with Haldir that night, who had heard everything that had been said, at least that part of the conversation that had taken place at Haldir’s doorstep, and the Valar knew how much more she had witnessed or heard from Haldir afterwards. Filanna blanched at the idea, and before she knew what she was doing, she rose from her chair. In her consternation, she did it so wildly that the chair almost toppled over.

“No, thank you, Inis,” she said. “Gwenél, wait. Bereth can have my chair. I am leaving.”

Both Inis and Gwenél protested, but Filanna was not to be swayed, too distraught to care about the impression she was making, or about the rudeness of her sudden departure. She had to get away from Bereth-- the sooner, the better.

“I am sorry, Inis,” she said as she stumbled to the door, almost colliding with the doorpost in her eagerness to leave. “I suddenly remembered... I must go, I have things to do. I will see Drauglan for his lesson at the usual hour.” With that she took off, not waiting for a reply. She felt awful; but the prospect of being in one space with Bereth, and having to endure that unbearable, knowing look was more than she could bear.

Like a fleeing deer she trotted down the stairs that wound around the mallorn tree, feeling more ridiculous with every step she took and inwardly cursing the Valar’s bizarre sense of humor. Why, why, _why_ did it have to be Bereth who witnessed that whole horrendous scene, why her of all people? And what on earth was she fleeing for? Where now was the brave elleth Galadriel had praised so warmly?

She ran on, mentally beating herself up over her stupidity, but then a voice calling her name made her stop in her tracks. She looked back and saw to her astonishment that Bereth was coming after her. For a moment she considered running away again-- but that would truly be a childish thing to do, and so she remained where she was, waiting in trepidation for Bereth to catch up with her.

“Thank the Valar you heard me,” Bereth said, panting and laughing, when she reached Filanna. “It is much too warm to be running like this.”

Filanna could not bring herself to smile. “What do you want?” she said, startled by her own hostile tone. “I am in a hurry.”

“In a hurry to get where?” Bereth shook her head. “I think we both know what the real reason for your leaving is, Filanna.”

For a few moments the two stared at each other, Filanna blushing and heated, Bereth calm and poised. Filanna was the first to lower her eyes; she had not expected Bereth to be so straightforward about these matters.

“You know it was me,” Bereth said quietly, and it was a statement, not a question. Filanna could only nod.

“You probably think I will go around telling people about the things I heard that night, but I am not like that, Filanna. What happens between you and Haldir is no one’s business but your own.”

“Well, I sort of made it your business too, though that certainly wasn’t my intention,” Filanna mumbled. “I did not act very tactfully, and I am sorry you had to witness it all.”

“So am I, actually.” Bereth smiled. “Though it did yield one good thing. At least now I know why you dislike me so much.”

Filanna frowned, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. “What makes you think I disl-”

“Filanna, listen to me.” Bereth placed her hands on Filanna’s shoulders, her piercing grey gaze fixed on the younger elleth’s face. “You need not see me as your rival. Haldir and I are just friends.”

Filanna snorted. “Friends!”

“It is the truth,” Bereth said. “I understand why you would find that hard to believe, but–”

“You know,” Filanna cut her off with an impatient gesture, “it really doesn’t matter what I believe, because I do not care what you and Haldir are.”

“I think you do,” Bereth said. “I think you care more than you are willing to admit.”

Filanna gritted her teeth. Bereth’s expression of compassion and understanding, her calm way of speaking and her generally being the picture of perfection-- it all was driving Filanna into frustration, but it was the things Bereth was saying that grated her most of all. Knowing herself, she realized that if she did not put an end to this conversation very soon, she was going to lose her temper in a bad way.

“Well, you are wrong,” she said coolly, shaking off Bereth’s hands and stepping out of her reach. “As far as I’m concerned you can do with Haldir whatever you like, I honestly couldn’t care less.”

With that she turned away, but not before she had seen the look on Bereth’s face change; oddly enough, her expression was... yes, almost one of disappointment.

Filanna did not look back as she continued her way downstairs. To her very great relief, she was not followed this time.


	14. An Unexpected Visitor

“Lower your elbow a little, Drauglan. Your arms should be parallel to one another. Straighten your back a bit more; yes, just like that. That is perfect.”

Drauglan stood stock still in firing position, his face a mask of concentration as he pulled back the string, bending his bow until it made little sounds of protest. His arms trembled slightly with the exertion and he let go almost immediately, sending the arrow on its way to the practice target, a little under ten yards away. It was a hit – the arrow landed in the red ring next to the white outer one – but disappointment was evident on Drauglan’s face. He had once again missed the oh so elusive bull’s eye by many fingers.

“That was very good,” Filanna said, “but you released too quickly, and your bow arm wasn’t entirely steady when the arrow came off. Take a little more time after you bend your bow; find your aim and then hold that pose for a moment before you release, preferably between two heartbeats. Your aim will be surer that way.”

“It is so hard to keep my arms still,” Drauglan complained. “I can’t take proper aim when my arms are trembling like that.”

Filanna smiled. “That will improve with time. The more you practise, the stronger your arms will become.”

Drauglan pulled another arrow from his quiver, a determined look in his eyes as he prepared for his next shot. This time the arrow drilled itself into the third ring from the center, a considerably better result.

“Excellently done!” Filanna praised her young pupil. “Do you see the difference that makes?”

Drauglan nodded and lowered his bow. “There are so many things I have to remember,” he said in a thoughtful tone. “It is much more difficult than I thought.”

“You will learn, Drauglan,” she told him reassuringly. “You have already learned so much and you will continue to improve, but you have to give it time. No elf is born a great archer, you know; it takes patience and many, many years of practice.”

“I know.” Drauglan looked lovingly at his bow. “One day, when I am older and stronger and carry a big bow just like Haldir’s, the orcs will run away screaming at the mere sight of me.”

“You will have to change your plans about becoming a sentinel then,” Filanna said. “Bow and arrow aren’t part of the sentinels’ standard equipment, and they rarely deal with orcs.”

“No, I still want to become a sentinel,” Drauglan said quickly, and a mischievous spark appeared in his eye. “I’ll hunt orcs in my free time. For... entertainment.”

Filanna waited a few moments before responding, unsettled to hear this sweet-tempered child speak such bloodthirsty words. “I am sure that once you grow up, you will find nicer ways to spend your spare time.” She paused briefly before asking, “Tell me, Drauglan, what is it about the sentinels that appeals to you so? What do they have that the wardens lack? Is it the long halberds they carry?”

“Yes, those are nice,” Drauglan said earnestly. “And their uniforms are prettier also. But that’s not the main reason.”

“No? Then what is?”

Drauglan looked at his feet, chewing his lip. “The sentinels don’t go away.”

“Don’t go away?” Filanna frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The wardens have long tours of duty,” Drauglan explained with obvious reluctance. “They spend more time at the fences than they do at home. And... I am the only family my Nana has left. She would be sad if I went away. I know she would. And I don’t want to make my Nana sad.”

“Oh.” Both taken aback and moved by the child’s simple logic, Filanna found herself unable to come up with a more fitting response than that. Not yet forty years old was this elfling, but it suddenly seemed to her as though many years had been added to his face, and she felt an almost overpowering urge to kneel down and take him into her arms.

Oblivious to the effect his words had on her, Drauglan poked the tip of his bow into the ground. He had a pensive expression on his face and appeared deeply lost in thought, but when he finally opened his mouth to say something, it was not what she expected. “How long will you stay?”

“Stay?” She gave him a questioning look, but he refused to meet her eyes. “You mean here, in Lothlórien?”

He nodded. “You once said you would be here for only a few months or so. You came in the spring and now it is summer; does that mean that you will leave soon?”

Filanna felt something inside her melt. “I haven’t yet decided when I’ll return to Mirkwood,” she told him kindly, “but you needn’t worry, Drauglan. I assure you that I won’t leave before I have found someone else to teach you, someone who–”

“But I don’t _want_ someone else!” Drauglan cried out suddenly, looking at her fiercely with his intense wolf grey eyes-- the eyes of his father, Filanna suspected, for even though Drauglan’s countenance bore some definite resemblances to his mother’s, Filanna saw nothing of Inis in those eyes. “I want only you!”

Filanna was stunned by the abrupt change in Drauglan’s mood. She had grown so used to his docility and cheerful nature that to see him behave like this came as a shock to her. “Well, I... I am very flattered that you think so highly of me, Drauglan,” she said awkwardly, “but I was never meant to teach you forever, and truly, you will be much better off with a qualified instr-”

“No!” Frustrated by her lack of understanding, Drauglan stamped his feet impatiently. “You don’t understand! I don’t want someone else and I don’t want you to go!”

Even with her limited knowledge about children and how to raise them, Filanna didn’t doubt that Inis would nip a temper tantrum such as this in the bud with a firm reprimand, but she saw the tremble of his lower lip and couldn’t bring herself to speak harshly to him now. Instead she sank to one knee, lowering herself to his eye level.

“Drauglan, listen to me,” she said with gentle emphasis. “I am very fond of you, and I enjoy being in Lórien. I promise you that unless circumstances beyond my control force me to leave, I won’t be going anywhere for a while. But Mirkwood is my home. My family lives there and they are very important to me also. You understand that, don’t you?”

Noticeably calmer already, Drauglan shifted his weight from one foot to the other and nodded almost imperceptibly. “But for now you are staying?”

“Yes, precious, for now I am definitely staying.” She smiled, touched by his apparent attachment to her. Then he surprised her once more by holding out his arms as a sign that he wanted to be hugged. She did so after a moment’s hesitation, patting his thin back awkwardly but with feeling.

“There, there,” she said soothingly. “You are my special little friend, and my star pupil.”

“I am your _only_ pupil,” he replied cheekily.

“That is irrelevant.” She rose to her feet and glanced at the sky. “Our time is almost up. I say we call it a day and go to the market.”

“The market?” He looked up at her non-comprehendingly. “Why?”

Filanna took off the leather archer’s glove that protected her string fingers and tucked it into her quiver. “Tell me, do you like honey bread?”

Drauglan’s uncertain expression transformed into one of childish delight. “Of course!”

“Splendid.” Filanna smiled and held out her hand to him. “So do I.”

xxx

Filanna told Inis of Drauglan’s outburst the following day, during one of the regular get-togethers with the other ellith. Bereth was the only one not attending; after their conversation a few weeks earlier, which had ended on less than friendly terms, Bereth seemed to be steering clear of Filanna, who did not at all regret this development, although she did feel a little guilty about having treated Bereth as hostilely as she had.

Inis heard Filanna out silently and then sighed. “Yes, that does sound like my son,” she said. “I am sorry, Filanna. I hope he has not upset you.”

“Not at all, I assure you,” Filanna replied. “It surprised me, that is all. I did not expect him to become so... emotional, all of a sudden. It is not how I know him.”

“Let me tell you something about Drauglan.” A sad smile ghosted across Inis’s face. “Most of the time he is the happiest and easiest child a mother could wish for, but he does have an insecure side that comes floating to the surface now and then. He gets attached to people so very fast, you see, and what he fears most of all is that those he cares about will leave him sooner or later. That is what you witnessed yesterday. Believe me, you are not the first to be confronted with such an outburst. But he did not mean any harm by it; in a way, he was telling you that he cares about you. Please do not take it ill of him.”

Filanna shook her head. “How could I? He is but a child, Inis.” She paused for a moment and then carefully asked, “Is it because of his father?”

“Who knows?” Inis made a gesture of uncertainty. “He does not remember his father, but that doesn’t mean that Maenion’s absence isn’t painfully felt. The consequences of his death linger, even though the day itself is long past.”

The two friends, who had been speaking in hushed voices, were silent for a while, looking at their companions, who were occupying themselves with more light-hearted matters; Aelwen and Gwenél were listening to Mereniel, who was reciting a poem from a book she held in her hands. The basket that contained the wild strawberries they had plucked earlier stood in their midst. The three offered a peaceful picture.

Finally Inis spoke again, her eyes still on the three ellith though her mind was clearly elsewhere. “I sometimes wonder... It can’t be good for a child to grow up with only one parent, without brothers and sisters. Drauglan deserves so much more than I alone can give him.”

“Don’t say that.” Filanna touched her friend’s arm. “You are a wonderful mother, and you are not alone by choice. Drauglan may not have a father anymore, but he is blessed in other ways. He has you, and he is loved by many. With his lovable character and happy disposition he will never be in want of friends and companionship, believe me.”

Inis smiled. “Thank you, Filanna. That is kindly said.”

The conversation ended with that, and for some time the five friends sat in perfect quietude and peacefulness. Mereniel was no longer reciting but reading quietly to herself and so was Gwenél. Inis had brought needle and thread and was mending some of Drauglan’s rent clothes, while Filanna observed, admiring the dexterity of Inis’s fingers. Only Aelwen was restless, finding no contentment in any activity, at least not for long. At length she got up and declared that she was bored.

“Do you hear that, ladies?” drawled Mereniel, always ready to spout some of her sarcastic comments. “Aelwen is bored. Did any of you see that coming?”

“I can’t help it. I just can’t sit still today.” Aelwen stretched herself and wandered to the nearest edge of the open flet on which they were sitting. “I’ve had it with this heat, and I am dying for some excitement, something to stir things up around here. It has been too quiet lately; I long for a little action!”

“Be careful with what you wish for,” Inis said darkly. “Things are never quiet for long here in Lórien, is my experience. You may have your excitement sooner than you think, but the guise in which it comes can never be predicted. Speaking for myself, I do not find the quietude at all unpleasant.”

“Nor I,” Mereniel agreed. “And what with the warden selections coming up in August, I doubly enjoy the rest, while it lasts.”

Aelwen laughed. “You are dull, both of you. The warden selections are one of Lórien’s primary events, and every citizen should be standing in line to witness it. It is a way of honouring those who risk their lives every day for our safety. Those valiant ellyn deserve nothing but our utmost respect and–”

“Worship?” Mereniel filled in with a shrewd grin. “Blatant lusting?”

Aelwen blushed slightly and smiled. “Well, that too. But I wasn’t joking when I said– oh!”

All now looked at Aelwen, whose attention suddenly seemed riveted on something down below. “What?” Inis prompted. “What is it?”

“Haldir has returned,” Aelwen said slowly, still staring at whatever it was that held her so enthralled. “And...”

Filanna sat up a little straighter. She had just been thinking about Haldir this morning, wondering how much longer it would be before he returned. Orophin and Rúmil had also left not long ago, and while she enjoyed the time spent with Inis and Gwénel and the others, she had missed the company of her male friends.

“And what?” Inis prodded, lowering the tunic she was mending. “He is not injured, is he?”

“No, no, not at all.” Aelwen now turned to them once more, a satisfied smile on her face. “Good news, dear sisters. It seems the Valar have already granted my wish. I foresee much excitement in the near future, and Inis, you will be happy to hear that the guise in which it comes is just fine. As a matter of fact, it is exquisite,” she added with a giggle.

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” Mereniel said under her breath.

Aelwen smiled more broadly, her face alive with barely hidden glee. “Haldir is not alone. He is bringing a visitor, a tall and handsome stranger the likes of which I have not seen in quite a while. Come and see for yourselves, but remember that I saw him first!”

Gwenél was already up on her feet. Mereniel made a face at Inis and Filanna, but then shrugged and got up also. In spite of her pose of disinterest and scorn, her eyes showed that her curiosity was in fact roused.

Aelwen gestured wildly at Inis and Filanna, who had not yet moved. “You too, come on!”

Filanna hesitated briefly, but then conceded and rose to her feet. However, it wasn’t the newcomer she longed to see, but Haldir, whose return she had anticipated and dreaded the past three weeks.

Inis however remained where she was and resumed her mending. “I have no interest in strangers, no matter how tall or handsome they are,” she said lightly. “You go on and gawk without me.”

Filanna approached the edge of the flet, where the three others were now gathered, straining their eyes to catch a glimpse of the mysterious new arrival.

“Oh, he’s definitely a sight for sore eyes,” Filanna heard Gwenél say approvingly.

“Isn’t he?” Aelwen cooed. “He's clearly a warrior, look at the archer’s gear. And that smooth gait, so confident! Upon my word, I have not seen such a fine specimen in decades.”

“He is good-looking, to be sure,” Mereniel said observingly, “but I would not go so far as to call him exquisite. And he is clearly quite young. From the looks of him, I reckon he has yet to celebrate his first millennial feast. He lacks muscle, the solidity that comes with centuries of experience in battle. Compared to the Marchwarden, who is walking next to him, he hardly impresses.”

Aelwen punched her friend’s arm, laughing. “Always so critical, Meren! You really won’t be satisfied, will you, until you find the wisdom of Lord Elrond, the glory of Ereinion Gil-galad and the dashing good looks of Glorfindel, all combined in one ellon.”

Mereniel rubbed her arm, grinning good-naturedly. “There’s nothing wrong with having standards.”

Filanna now joined the others and peered down from her vantage point, in the direction Aelwen had pointed out earlier. Her wandering eyes discovered Haldir almost at once; he was dressed in his uniform and fully armed, so he clearly had returned from the fences only moments ago. He appeared to be talking to the one walking next to him, for Filanna could see his lips move, though she could not hear what he was saying. Then, once she had verified that Haldir was indeed unharmed and well, Filanna shifted her gaze to his companion-- and felt a shock of recognition and astonishment, followed by a brief moment of disbelief and then a surge of wild joy.

 _A surprise might be in your near future. I think you will not be disappointed._ Filanna laughed as she remembered Galadriel’s words, which now made perfect sense. Ignoring her astonished friends, who were all looking at her in bewilderment, she leapt nimbly from the flet, landed lightly on both feet and ran down the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

“Legolas!” she joyfully called. “Legolas!”

Her youngest brother – for he and none other was the stranger whose merits the ellith had been praising – looked up at the sound of her voice, a broad smile lighting up his face when he caught sight of her-- a smile she knew to be reflected on her own face. He spread his arms, and the next moment she was caught in a firm embrace and twirled around. Of all the surprises she could have imagined, this was the least expected and the most wonderful; Legolas was here. Her beloved brother had come to visit her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him, laughing, as they held each other at an arm’s length, studying one another. Both were at this point oblivious to Haldir, who had taken a few steps to the side to give the siblings some space.

“What am I doing here?” Legolas made a face. “I will tell you what I am doing here. We had an agreement, sister; you would explore beautiful Lothlórien whilst I stayed at home and you would tell me all about it after your trip. That was your promise, remember? Imagine my dismay when Ada and Rínion returned without you and informed us that you were not coming home at all. I was heartbroken, sister, heartbroken. And since you haven’t exactly been flooding us with letters...” He pointedly raised an eyebrow at her and lifted his hands, palms turned skywards. “Well, to make a long story short, Ada gave me permission to make the journey myself and check up on you. These Galadhrim could be holding you hostage for all we knew.”

She blushed with embarrassment. “I am sorry about the letters, or rather the lack thereof. I wanted to write so many times, but something always came up. I hope Ada and Nana are not displeased with me?”

“I think they are merely surprised.” A sparkle appeared in Legolas’s eye. “Ada didn’t seem convinced at first that he had done the right thing by leaving you behind, but clearly you are enjoying yourself too much to do horrid, boring things like writing obligatory letters home.”

She laughed. “Oh, stop teasing me! You don’t care about any letters. You just wanted to see Lórien, you always have, and now you have your way, like always.”

He grinned and clasped her elbows more strongly. “You are looking well, sister. Exceptionally well, I’d even say. Lórien does you good.”

“It does,” she agreed. “And you will like it here as well. I cannot wait to show you around! How long can you stay? How did you manage to get the time off anyway? Could you be spared at the border?” She thought of Gilgador, Legolas’s superior, who rarely granted his soldiers such favours, and never from the kindness of his heart.

Legolas chuckled and touched the tip of her nose. “No worries, Filly; everything has been taken care of. I must return to my duties eventually, but I can stay for a while, long enough at least for you to give me that tour of the Golden Wood you promised me.”

It was at this point that Filanna heard timid footsteps approaching behind her, and she became aware of the presence of others once more. “I must introduce you to my friends,” she told him.

Legolas looked over her shoulder, taking in the four ellith standing behind her. “Indeed you must,” he agreed, nodding slowly.

“These are Inis, Gwenél, Mereniel and Aelwen.” Filanna indicated each of the ellith as she spoke their names. “Ladies, I present to you my brother Legolas.”

“Enchanted,” Legolas said gallantly as he bowed and gave all four of them a hand kiss. Gwenél was flustered, Aelwen even more so. Even Mereniel was blushing, although Filanna suspected it had less to do with Legolas’s charms than with the things she had said about him before the family relations became clear. Inis on the other hand was calm and gracious, speaking eloquent words of welcome. Was Filanna imagining it or did Legolas’s gaze actually linger on Inis a little longer than it did on the others? If so, it was hardly surprising; Inis was a lovely elleth, and she definitely caught the eye with the bright orange-and-yellow dress she wore – one of her own designs, of course – and her flowery hair ornament in matching colours.

Filanna looked at her brother with unconcealed pride. It might be true that Legolas was relatively young and slenderer than the more seasoned warriors, but he was of athletic build and deceptively strong. Furthermore, he was lethal with the long-bladed knives and his skill with bow and arrow widely known; not even their father could beat him in a friendly contest. And whilst his brothers’ education had focused on diplomacy and politics rather than military affairs, Legolas was a full-fledged warrior, trained to the bone and grounded in every aspect of warfare-- a fact he used to his advantage when necessary.

Filanna’s eye then fell on a silent figure in grey, and she realized with a small shock that Haldir was still there. He stood a small distance away, observing the scene but apparently not wanting to intrude upon it. He was not smiling; his face was, as usual, inscrutable.

“Oh, and this is of course Haldir,” she said awkwardly, “though I suppose you already knew that.”

Legolas nodded at Haldir. “Yes, I met the Marchwarden at the northern border, and I had the good fortune of being allowed to spend a few days patrolling with him and his wardens.”

“Indeed?” Filanna looked at him oddly.

“Haldir generously offered it, and how could I possibly refuse?” Legolas shrugged and grinned. “No soldier in his right mind would pass up a chance to join the wardens of Lothlórien, even if only for a few days. It was a golden opportunity.”

The gleam in Legolas’s eye was unmistakable, and seeing it made Filanna smile; for a brief moment, he looked just like a child who’s been out playing with the big boys.

“Haldir was just taking me to see Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel,” Legolas continued. “Will you come along?”

“No, perhaps I should not,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “You go on without me, we will meet up once you’re properly settled. I have so much to tell you!”

“I will be looking forward to it, little sister.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze, nodded at the four other ellith and continued his way up the stairs. Haldir, who had not said a single word so far, made to follow him. Filanna looked at him, longing to say something, anything; and before she knew what she was doing, she reached out as he passed and laid a hand on his arm.

“Haldir, I...” She trailed off, unsure what to say next. Finally she decided to just spill the simple truth. “It is good to see you.”

He briefly held her gaze before inclining his head in acknowledgment. “Likewise, princess.”

The response was not unfriendly, but rather formal in nature, and did not express the joy she had secretly been hoping for. She truly was happy to see him - the Valar knew why but she was - but despite his polite reply, she doubted the sentiment was mutual. Perhaps he had changed his mind about being her friend. But as she watched him follow Legolas up the stairs, she vowed that she wasn’t going to let him off the hook. She had too many questions, and by all the Valar, she would not rest until Haldir gave her some answers.

xxx

“Well, dearest,” Lord Celeborn said to his spouse moments after the door had shut behind the youngest Prince of Mirkwood, with whom they had had a most pleasant discourse. “I had best start making preparations for a welcome feast befitting our newest, royal guest. There isn’t much time.”

Galadriel nodded as she went to the window overlooking the stairs that led up to the entrance of the Great Hall. “Indeed,” she said thoughtfully, watching Legolas descend in the company of the Marchwarden. “Legolas strikes me as an elf who would appreciate a little pomp and revelry.”

Celeborn laughed. “The Valar help us all. Do you think Lórien can handle another of the Thranduil clan? If Legolas is anything like his siblings, he’ll be causing quite a stir.”

“Oh, he will enjoy Lórien, without a doubt.” Galadriel smiled, never taking her eyes off the slender figure in green and brown, who appeared to be chatting amicably with Haldir and who, unlike his sister, didn’t seem to need much time to make himself at home in the Golden Wood. “And I have a feeling that Lórien will enjoy him.”

xxx

Arriving at the party that evening, Filanna, Aelwen and Gwenél found the celebrations already in full swing, the glade filled with mingling, drinking and dancing elves, all dressed in their finest array for the occasion. For a moment or two the three ellith observed the festivities from a little distance, and Filanna could not help but marvel at the Galadhrim’s ability to organize an event like this on such short notice.

“Well, Aelwen,” Gwenél said as they stood there gazing out over the crowd, “I’d say you got the excitement you asked for. Do you have psychic powers you never told us about?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t presume.” Aelwen laughed. “My only gift, perhaps, is that I have a nose for handsome males... oh, hush, here he comes!”

Filanna had also spotted her brother, who waved at her and was making his way through the crowd. Judging by his wide grin and sparkling eyes, he was enjoying himself immensely as the guest of honour, and as he came closer, she saw that he had traded his traveller’s garb for clean leggings and a white tunic. Filanna shook her head and smiled to herself. It was typical of her brother to completely ignore dress guidelines, attend celebrations such as this in almost insultingly plain clothes and yet shine like a moon amongst stars.

“Sister, you came!” He pulled her in for an embrace and as he did so, he murmured into her ear, “Nice dress, Filly. But as your loving brother I have to ask: are you aware of the effect it will have on the male half of the population? If so, then you are playing a most cruel game.”

Filanna looked down her body, at the lilac dress Inis had made for her. “What are you talking about? It is perfectly decent!”

“Decent, perhaps, but very tight in certain places.” Legolas gave her a demonic grin. “It seems my little sister has grown up while we were looking the other way. I just hope she knows what she is doing.”

“Oh, please,” she said tartly. “You have never played the protective brother part before, Legolas. It’s too late to start now.”

“Peace, sister.” Legolas raised his hands in a placating gesture, his smile never wavering. “No offense was meant. Ah, I see your friends have also come. Good evening, ladies...”

Gwenél only smiled shyly, but Aelwen saw her chance and took it. “Of course we have come, Prince Legolas,” she said, batting her eyelashes at him. “It has been too long since we had cause for celebration, and I love to dance. Do you like dancing, Prince?”

It was not a very subtle hint, but it did have the desired effect. Filanna, who secretly admired Aelwen’s cheek, was pleased when Legolas, before taking Aelwen to the dance floor, asked the more timid Gwenél to save the next dance for him. It didn’t seem like much, but Filanna doubted Rínion and Darwain would have shown the same gallantry, and she sent Legolas an approving look. He gave her a wink in return and then disappeared into the crowd, leading a satisfied-looking Aelwen by the hand.

“I feel for your brother,” Gwenél said with a chuckle as she and Filanna wove their way through the crowd, heading for the table with refreshments. “Aelwen can be pretty persistent when she has her eye on a male.”

“You need not pity him, Gwenél,” Filanna said with a smile. “Legolas can look after himself, and besides, he may enjoy Aelwen’s attentions.”

Gwenél took the glass of wine Filanna handed her. “He is nice, Filanna. Legolas, I mean. You are so lucky to have brothers. I always imagined it must be so nice.”

“It is, most of the time. Brothers tend to be very protective of their younger sisters, though, which is not always an advantage. Sometimes,” she said with a laugh, “it’s like having four fathers instead of one.”

As they sipped their wine in silence, Filanna let her gaze wander around the glade. She recognized a few faces in the crowd, including several of her coworkers, who raised hands in greeting when they saw her. Felegron even came over to introduce his lovely wife. Then finally, just as she was starting to think that he hadn’t come, she spotted Haldir. She had been looking for him on the dance floor, but he was not dancing; he was conversing with a few ellyn she did not recognize, and appeared to have very little attention for the celebrating and the dancing going on around him. His weapons were gone and his uniform had been replaced by simple leggings and an ice blue tunic that was slit to the hip on both sides-- doubtlessly one of Inis’s creations, for like Filanna, Haldir could be counted among Inis’s loyal clientele.

Before long, Legolas came to claim Gwenél for the next dance. Aelwen was no longer with him, and he explained that it was because another male had snatched her away before he could return her to her friends.

“As for you, sister,” Legolas told Filanna, “I want to see you on the dance floor for the next dance. No princess of Mirkwood plays wallflower on a night like this, I won’t stand for it.”

Filanna resisted the temptation to stick out her tongue at him. “I will do as I please.”

“Come, my dear, with such a fine array of ravishing ellyn at your disposal, you would be foolish to stay on the sidelines for very long.” He winked at her over his shoulder as he led a flustered Gwenél away. “Don't let me down, Filly!”

Filanna sighed and gulped down her wine. She stared at the empty glass for a moment before putting it away. If she wanted to act, she had better do it now, before she lost what little nerve she had. She smoothed her gown, quickly ran her hands through her hair and then set off, striding towards Haldir with an air of determination.

He was still standing on the same spot, talking to his friends, fellow wardens, or whatever they were. As he was facing the other direction, he was unaware of her approach, and she drew closer awkwardly, wondering how to get his attention. Would it even be polite to disturb him when he was clearly occupied? Then again, if she had to wait for an opportunity to talk to him alone, this could become a very long evening.

“Haldir?” she tried, but the softly-spoken word was lost in the surrounding noise. Before she could try again, she was noticed by one of the ellyn of Haldir’s company, who gave her a once-over and then tapped Haldir on the shoulder.

“Haldir, I think there is someone here who wishes to speak to you.”

All five ellyn, Haldir included, simultaneously turned to face her. Filanna could not have felt more exposed if she had been standing there naked, and she tried not to blush, but was of course unsuccessful. She felt the heat literally coming off of her in waves.

“Good evening, Filanna,” Haldir said in a tone of mild surprise.

“Haldir– I, erm...” Filanna paused and cleared her throat as inaudibly as she could, horrified by the squeaky sound of her own voice. The men were still staring at her with great interest, making it all but impossible for her to think clearly, and she felt her courage waver. However, it was too late for second thoughts, so she braced herself, drew herself up to her full height and said in a much clearer voice, “I was wondering if you would like to dance with me.”

The impact of these words was considerable. Looks of surprise and amusement were exchanged, and Haldir’s was not the only raised eyebrow. It wasn’t uncommon for a female to ask a male to dance, but Filanna suspected there weren’t many who would have the nerve to approach the Marchwarden. Until very recently she wouldn’t have counted herself among them, either.

“Sweetheart,” one of the other ellyn finally said with a laugh, “if Haldir won’t dance with you, I definitely will!”

This remark earned him a few jabs in his ribs. “Be quiet, you fool,” Filanna heard one of the others whisper. “She is Thranduil’s daughter!”

To her great relief, Haldir very diplomatically ignored this. He inclined his head graciously and replied, “I would be delighted, milady.”

On the dance floor, preparations were being made for a court dance. As she wove her way through the crowd with Haldir, Filanna caught sight of Legolas, who saw that she was with a dance partner and flashed her an approving grin.

“I could be mistaken,” Haldir said as they found themselves a spot amidst the other pairs, “but did you not, on an occasion very similar to this, tell me that you hated dancing and that you had no talent for it?”

“I did say that,” she admitted, “but I wasn’t entirely honest with you at the time.”

All dancers had now taken position-- males and females in separate lines, facing each other. When the musicians started playing, all nodded at their respective partners and stepped forward, each pair coming together and making a circling movement to the rhythm of the music.

“In other words, you fabricated some excuse to get rid of me,” Haldir said with a glimmer of amusement in his eye.

Filanna smiled guiltily in answer. “I was behaving childishly, and I am sorry for it.”

She moved backwards, hooked her arm in that of her neighbour and made another circle, until she faced Haldir once more. “I was hoping to see you here tonight. You don’t mind that I asked you to dance, do you?”

“Why should I?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a half smile. “Perhaps you consider it an insult to your malehood to be asked by a female in front of your friends.”

He chuckled. “Princess, even if that were so, why should I care about what the others might think? I am the one dancing with royalty, while they stand on the sidelines. I have the last laugh.”

They danced silently for a while, sometimes coming together and sometimes moving apart, weaving the intricate patterns the dance prescribed. Haldir was an elegant dancer, but he moved with a nonchalant kind of grace that seemed to suggest dancing was not his favourite pastime.

“Do you like dancing?” she asked him.

“I enjoy it to a certain degree, some days more than others. It largely depends on the dance and on my partner.” He caught her fingers and raised them above their heads, so that she could make a spin under the arch of their arms. Around them, the other pairs did the same. “At the moment, I have to say I find it quite pleasurable.”

She laughed. “Haldir, are you ever serious?”

“More often than I should like,” was his reply.

The females stepped away from their partners at this point, so Filanna had to wait a few moments before she could continue. “Thank you for what you did for my brother,” she told him when the dance brought them back together. “That you let him go on patrol with you, I mean. I can tell it meant a lot to him.”

“Mmm. You are not displeased that I delayed him, then?”

“What makes you think that?” She gave him a quizzical look. “You didn’t actually believe that I would be, did you?”

“As a matter of fact, I did consider it a likely possibility. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time my actions upset you. I came to the city fully prepared to be chastised for keeping your brother away from you.”

The sparkle in his eye told her he was joking, but she lowered her eyes in shame. “I wish I could take back some of the things I said, Haldir. But I promised you I would mend my ways, and I intend to keep that promise. And in any case...” She glanced in Legolas’s direction, smiling involuntarily. “I do not have Legolas on a leash. He can do whatever he pleases; he always has.”

Haldir followed her gaze, seeing what Filanna saw: Legolas surrounded by a horde of at least seven or eight females, talking and laughing, and apparently feeling perfectly at ease. “It seems that your brother has already made himself quite popular,” Haldir dryly remarked.

Filanna chuckled. “Yes, he has a way of winding the ellith around his fingers, Legolas does.” She gazed up at his face and asked teasingly, “Do you feel threatened by that, Haldir?”

He lifted his chin somewhat, which she now knew was his way of striking a superior pose. “For your information, princess, I don’t feel threatened that easily. Least of all by some young upstart from Taur-e-Ndaedelos.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “No offense meant, of course.”

“None taken whatsoever.”

The dance was drawing to an end, but as the lines of males and females moved to stand in front of each other once more for the conclusion of the dance, the last notes of the song seamlessly changed into the opening chords of a popular, upbeat tune that was greeted by howls and cheers of approval from the crowd. There was no time to change partners; the lines of dancers fell apart into individual pairs, and Filanna too did what the music asked of her, putting her hands on Haldir’s shoulders while his arms went around her waist. The next moment they were swept into a dance that was as lively and energetic as the previous one had been mannered and formal. Filanna was not familiar with the steps, but she tried not to think too much and to rely on Haldir’s lead, hoping that her clumsiness wouldn’t be too evident.

“Did Inis make that tunic you're wearing?” she asked him once she felt confident enough to focus on other things besides the dancing.

“She did indeed. Why are you asking?”

“No particular reason.” Attempting to strike a casual tone she added, “It is nice. I like the colour, it suits you very well.”

One corner of Haldir’s mouth crawled slowly upwards, as did one of those expressive eyebrows. “Are you _flirting_ with me, princess?”

She could not help but laugh in return. “I am paying you a compliment, Haldir. Can’t you tell the difference?”

“My mistake, forgive me. But the compliment is gratefully accepted.”

Filanna sighed inwardly at his noncommittal response, but she wasn't going to give up so easily.

“If there is something nice you wish to say about me in return,” she prodded, “now would be the time.”

This time both of Haldir’s eyebrows went up. “Do I hear correctly? Are you asking for a compliment from _my_ lips? Surely my ears deceive me!”

Filanna felt her face grow very warm, and she wondered what had made her so bold. “Why, do you think I do not enjoy a compliment as much as the next person?”

“Well... yes. I thought you didn’t care about such pleasantries.” He smirked. “Besides, princess, why would you need me to tell you that that is a _very_ flattering dress on you, when a mirror can tell you the exact same thing?”

She laughed and lowered her eyes, studying one of the clasps of his tunic as though it was a highly interesting object. “Why do you call me princess all the time?”

“I call you princess because that is what you are. Do you not like it?”

“I do not like to be constantly reminded.” She made a face. “You are Marchwarden because that is your achievement, one that you earned. I got my title by mere coincidence, it says nothing about me and I am not proud of it.”

“I’ll be happy to call you by another name if you want me to.” A wicked gleam appeared in Haldir’s eyes. “Filly, perhaps?”

Filanna jerked her eyes up to his smirking face, her mouth falling open in shock. “Oh no, don’t you dare! Don’t you dare, Haldir!”

“Why not?” His grin widened. “I like it, it suits you uncannily well. I wonder why I never thought of it myself.”

“No,” she repeated with emphasis. “I don’t want you to call me that, it is a silly name.”

“You don’t seem to mind when Legolas uses it.”

“Because he’s my brother and I hardly know any better. With you, I’d be feeling like a dumb elfling.” She gave him a pleading look. “You do understand that, don’t you?”

“I think I do.” He seemed to take pity on her, smiling reassuringly. “Give me some time, I may think of something more fitting. Can I still call you princess until then, though?”

“Now and then.” She returned his smile. “But I prefer to be called by my given name.”

“I will remember that.”

When the dance ended, Haldir and Filanna thanked each other with the customary bow and curtsey, as did all the other pairs around them.

“Thank you for the dance, Filanna.” Haldir took her hand and brought it to his lips in a display of perfect gallantry. “It was a great pleasure, but I should now return to my company, and give others a chance. It would be very selfish and discourteous of me to keep you all to myself.”

Filanna smiled wanly. She knew it would be unrealistic to expect him to stay by her side all night, but she could not help feeling disappointed. Besides Legolas, he was the only reason she had come to this party to begin with. She had so much to prove to him, so many wrongs to put right, but what hope was there for this relationship if they didn’t start spending some quality time together soon?

Filanna saw very little of her friends that evening. She occasionally caught glimpses of Aelwen and Gwenél, who seemed to be dancing continuously with a variety of ellyn and looked like they were having a marvellous time doing so-- Aelwen especially. Filanna danced with Legolas a few times, with Felegron and even with Celeborn once, and when she wasn’t dancing, she mostly patrolled the periphery of the dance floor, drinking wine and keeping an eye on what Haldir was doing. He danced a few times, each time with a different elleth, but away from the dance floor he seemed to occupy himself solely with his male companions. Bereth did not show herself all evening.

Eventually Filanna grew rather frustrated with herself and decided to escape the masses and the hubbub for a moment, so she strayed away from the glade, into the forest. Aimlessly she wandered between the trees, inhaling the evening air and trying to remember how many glasses of wine she had had during the course of the evening. Definitely a few too many, she decided as she tripped over a protruding tree root and almost fell flat on her face. She found it rather cumbersome to walk with her long skirt dragging over the forest floor, but she plodded on with a grim expression on her face, more focused on her inner turmoil than on where she placed her feet. What in Eru’s name was wrong with her tonight? Her insides were in knots and it felt as though she had a tightly wound spring in the pit of her belly, a spring that could uncoil any moment. Why, she had no idea. Perhaps it was simply the wine.

She kept walking until she could no longer hear the sounds of revelry and then sank down on a log, putting her chin in her hands. The tranquillity of the forest was almost overwhelming after the music and the noise she had left behind, but it was soothing to her and she breathed a sigh of relief. She still did not feel quite at home in large crowds, and parties always wore her out. Perhaps it was time to call it a night. Legolas would not be offended if she retired early; knowing her brother, he would have no trouble at all keeping himself entertained without her.

However, before she could decide on her next move, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her musings. Lost in thought as she was, she did not hear them until the very last moment, and the elves in question did not notice her either as they stumbled past, whispering and laughing. There were two of them, a male and a female; a couple, judging by the way they clung to each other, and not a very sober couple at that. Assuming that they were just passing through the area on their way home, Filanna initially spared them no more than a quick glance, but to her surprise the pair halted by the trunk of one particularly large mallorn tree, approximately sixty feet from where she was sitting. They were still talking and laughing rather drunkenly when, before Filanna’s stunned eyes, the male took the elleth by the waist and backed her up against the tree, swiftly stepping in to cover her body with his own. The female wound her arms around his neck and pulled him in for what looked like a rather plunderous kiss.

It took Filanna a moment to realize what she was witnessing and what it was exactly the pair had come here for, but when she did, the shock was acute. She froze on her log, watching with widening eyes as the ellon’s hands moved to his partner’s cleavage and fumbled with the laces at the front of her dress. What he did after that remained hidden from Filanna’s view, but judging by the female’s encouraging moans he was doing it well.

When the male paused his ministrations for a moment and reached for his groin, Filanna became abruptly aware of her predicament. She had no desire whatsoever to stay and play the voyeur, but she was in the female’s line of sight and would surely be noticed when she moved-- a prospect that did not appeal either. As cold sweat broke out from every pore of her body, Filanna feverishly considered her options.

In the meantime, the male succeeded in opening his leggings and impatiently pushed them to halfway down his thighs, revealing a firm pair of buttocks-- a sight that only added to Filanna’s consternation. He then hoisted the elleth’s skirt up to her waist, baring her hips and legs, one of which she lifted and wrapped around him. He grasped it and pushed it higher as he maneuvered himself between her thighs. When the female gasped at the moment he entered her, Filanna almost gasped along with her. She wanted to avert her gaze and yet she couldn’t stop looking; she was not entirely ignorant about these things, but to actually see the deed being done right in front of her was a different matter altogether. With a strange mixture of shock, shame and fascination she watched as the male built up a rhythm, thrusting in and out of his willing partner. Both were vocalizing their enjoyment without restraint, and Filanna could see the female, who was trapped between the tree and her lover’s body, writhe in pleasure, her hands clawing at her partner’s shoulders. And all the while his hips kept moving in that sensual rhythm, rotating and thrusting without stop. Filanna felt odd looking at it; an unfamiliar pressure, an ache almost, settled between her legs and spread through her belly like wildfire. It spooked her so much that the spell was broken. Snapping out of her trance, she leapt to her feet and fled the scene.

She didn’t look back to see if they had spotted her. As soon as she thought it safe, she broke into a run-- or more accurately, a rather unelegant trot that had her cursing her gown and unpractical slippers. Lifting her skirt a few inches helped a little, and so she skedaddled along, back to the distant lights and noise of the party, wondering if she would ever be able to forget the expression of ecstasy she had seen on the elleth’s face, an image that was now branded into her memory.

She was not prepared for the large, dark shape suddenly looming up in front of her, blocking her way. She gave a startled shriek and skidded to a halt, but tripped over the hem of her skirt and lost her balance. However, instead of falling flat on her face, she was caught and pulled up by a strong pair of hands.

“Haldir!” she breathed, for it was, once again, the Marchwarden who had caught her. They were standing very close, close enough for her to smell the scent of his skin, and she had unintentionally put her hands on his chest to steady herself.

“We have to stop meeting like this, Filanna,” Haldir teased, as they now found themselves in a situation quite similar to their first meeting, at the stables. It seemed a lifetime ago.

“And _you_ have to stop startling me to death,” Filanna replied, still breathless from the run and from the fright.

“Apologies. It was not my intent.” His smile faded when he saw her flustered expression and he let go of her, taking a step back. “I could not help but notice you left rather abruptly. Is something amiss?”

“I’m fine,” Filanna said flatly. “I’m just tired and I want to go home.”

His keen eyes scanned her face, doubtlessly finding evidence that she was not telling him the full truth-- and that, although not drunk, she was definitely a little tipsy. “You are in no condition to go wandering on your own,” he said in an almost businesslike tone of voice that could not hide his concern entirely. “Someone must go with you, see to it that you get home safely.”

She shrugged, too weary to argue. “If that would ease your mind.”

“It would.” He paused for a moment and cleared his throat. “I would like the honour of escorting you myself, if that is agreeable to you.”

Filanna looked up. Haldir hadn’t sounded quite like himself just now, there had been a slight rasp in his voice that she had never heard from him before. Good Valar, if she didn’t know any better she would almost have thought that he was nervous. It was a thought she might have enjoyed if it wasn’t so ludicrous. For a few moments she let her eyes search his face, but it was partly hidden in the shadows and as impossible to read as always.

She knew the answer she should be giving. He was the Marchwarden, who affected her in ways no other ellon ever had. In her current state of mind, he was probably the least sensible choice for a chaperon-- she was still sober enough to realize that. To let Haldir walk her home now was to be asking for all sorts of trouble, and Filanna wasn’t the sort of elleth who got into trouble; at least not the kind of trouble that involved men. And therein, perhaps, lay her biggest problem.

“Please do, Haldir,” she said. “I would enjoy your company.”


	15. World Of Difference

After offering himself as her chaperon as eagerly as he had, Haldir was surprisingly uncommunicative during the walk to Filanna’s talan, giving only small warnings and instructions as he guided her over narrow staircases and past unprotected ridges. His silence, odd though it was, suited Filanna just fine, for it meant that she too could give in to her musings, without feeling the obligation to carry on an intelligent conversation. So preoccupied was she, that she did not even realize she had taken Haldir’s arm somewhere along the way. Only weeks before, she would not have dreamt of allowing Haldir anywhere near her in a state like this-- what was more, she wouldn’t have gotten herself into this state to begin with. But here she was: half drunk, confused, clinging to Haldir’s arm as he escorted her home, and she couldn’t bring herself to care about any of it. All she wanted was to get out of that dress, pull the covers over her head and forget this whole night had ever taken place.

When they reached the front door of her talan, neither of them had spoken more than three or four complete sentences since the moment they left the party, so when Filanna let go of Haldir’s arm and turned around to thank him, the sound of her own voice almost startled her.

“Thank you for your guidance, Haldir.” She caught herself fumbling with her dress and crossed her arms to stop herself. “Will you be at ease, now that you have delivered me safely at my doorstep? Or do you think that I will get myself into mortal peril between here and my bed?”

“No, I trust you’ll find your way from here.” A little smile came to Haldir’s face. “Apologies if I seemed overzealous. You appeared somewhat unsteady on your feet, and you are not accustomed to our lofty dwellings.”

His tactful phrasing made her laugh, and his smile broadened also, offering instant antidote for her earlier consternation. The evening had not been entirely disastrous, after all-- she had made an effort to mend her relationship with Haldir, plucked up her courage to ask him to dance, and she had enjoyed dancing with him, more so than she had anticipated. As he now stood before her, with a beguiling expression that made him look half his years, she found it difficult to believe that this was in fact the same elf who had caused her so much distress on her first night in Lórien. His bold flirtatious ways and her own inability to deal with his advances in a graceful manner had set them off on the wrong foot completely, and her first impression of him had not been favourable, but she had thought him handsome even then.

“Well, I’ll be leaving you then,” he said, starting to turn away. “Sleep well.”

“Are you going back to the dance?”

“I am, but I don’t plan to stay long. I am not really in the mood for dancing tonight.”

She made a face. “Why did you dance with me then?”

“Because I was asked, and I can’t say no to a pretty face.” He smiled. “Just don’t spread that word around, princess, or I’ll be in deep trouble.”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes, trying not to show her amusement. “Would you be so kind as to do me a favour then, and tell Legolas that I have retired? He might miss me at some point-- or not, depending on how well he fares with those ellith I last saw him with. At any rate, I don’t want him to worry about me.”

“I will do that,” Haldir said with a nod. “Good night then, Filanna.” As he made to leave once again, Filanna struggled for something else to say, disappointed that he seemed so eager to get away. It was true that she craved some quietude, but the prospect of being alone with her thoughts tonight didn’t exactly appeal either. In fact, his apparent unwillingness to stay in her proximity a moment longer than necessary only made her more desperate to keep him with her.

“Haldir, wait.”

At her call, he halted and made a half turn to look at her questioningly. “What is it, Filanna?”

“I... I wanted to ask you something.” What she said next, surprised her just as much as it probably did him. “About that night, when I came to your talan to pick a fight with you, and we had that horrible argument, and you kissed me on the stairs. Do you remember?”

His expression guarded, he considered her for a few moments before replying, “I remember it quite distinctly, yes.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it, quite a lot actually, and...” Filanna grew flustered, barely resisting the urge to wring the fabric of her gown with her hands. “Please, I need to know... I have been driving myself insane wondering...”

He came back to her slowly, his eyes searching her face. “What? What have you been wondering?”

“Well...” She found it difficult to look him in the eye, her gaze fluttering away every time she tried it. “We’ve been acting like it never happened, and perhaps that is for the best, but I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop wondering how... how it came to that.”

He was silent for a long time, and although she didn’t raise her eyes to confirm, she could feel his attentive gaze on her the whole time.

“Filanna,” he finally said with a sigh, “what happened that night was a most unfortunate misstep on my part, one for which I cannot apologize enough. Truly, I am not proud of what I–”

“No, you misunderstand.” She shook her head. “It is not apologies I want. Please, just tell me why you did it, Haldir. Then I will be content.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” He drew his fingers across his forehead, looking at her with eyes that were neither warm nor cool, kind nor unkind. He looked... neutral, maddeningly so. “Well, I’ll give you an honest answer. I was curious.”

Filanna wasn’t sure what answer she had expected to get, but this most definitely wasn’t it. “Curious,” she repeated after a moment’s silence, not knowing whether to feel amused or insulted.

He sighed again. “Filanna, I made a grievous mistake that night. I was vexed, and in my anger I acted like a rash youth, which is unforgivable for an elf of my age and life experience. I cannot make it undone, but I can promise you that it will never–”

She took a step forward, interrupting him again. “And was your curiosity satisfied?”

“I– what?”

“I remember the kiss as being rather one-sided. I cannot imagine that it gave you much pleasure.” She stepped in even more, placing her hands on his shoulders. It was as if her body was making decisions on its own, doing things she wouldn’t normally dream of doing. Softly she added, “If you were to kiss me right now, I think it would be much more enjoyable for the both of us.”

Although he didn’t move, she could feel his muscles tensing against her palms, and she felt triumphant for having surprised him. His usually so inscrutable eyes darkened, confusion rising from the inky depths, along with something else she couldn’t quite name, something intense and very potent. “Filanna, you have no idea what you are doing,” he said, and although he spoke calmly, his voice carried a strained undertone that told her he was not as unaffected by her actions as he would have her believe.

She shook her head, crossing the final inches that separated them. “Perhaps it is better if I don’t.”

The moment her lips touched his, she felt him freeze slightly, his mouth remaining still and unresponsive for a few long, agonizing moments before something finally seemed to give way in him and he began to respond. A feeling of victory made her heart soar, and before she even realized that they had moved at all, she found herself trapped between her talan door and Haldir’s body, and his hands were around her face and he was kissing her in earnest, claiming control, giving her no other option than to let him have it.

This kiss could not have been more different from the first one. Not only was it mutual and far more intimate, Filanna was now also able to appreciate that intimacy-- the feeling of Haldir’s body, strong and solid and angular, pressing against her own softer curves; the taste of his mouth, alien and exhilarating and, somehow, distinctly male; his large hands cradling her face gently, a stark contrast to the ferocity with which he plundered her mouth. She was perplexed by the hunger, the ravenousness of it all, and by her own eager response to it. He was an excellent kisser, and she hoped to Eru that her lack of experience wasn’t ruining it for him.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Haldir withdrew, abruptly establishing a distance between her and himself once more, and she was startled to discover that he looked neither blissful nor particularly content. His features were taut and he was looking... well, almost regretful.

As for her own face, Filanna dared not contemplate what that looked like. She was plastered to the door, her hair tousled and her mouth still half open. “What’s wrong?” she asked breathlessly. “Was it... was it not good?”

“Not _good_?” he echoed, shaking his head and making a sound not dissimilar to laughter, although it was clear he wasn’t amused in the slightest. “Why did you do this, Filanna?”

“Why?” She grew nervous, not understanding why he seemed so displeased all of a sudden. “Well, I… I suppose you could say I was curious.”

She regretted the quip the moment it slipped out of her mouth. Haldir’s expression darkened further, and suddenly he was his intimidating self once more, formidable and poised and very much in control of himself. “Spare me your humor, princess. I demand an explanation.”

His irritable manner made her testy in turn. “Maybe I kissed you because I thought it was something we would both enjoy,” she retorted. “Talking about males and sex and intimacy is about all my friends ever do; is it so wrong to want to experience some of that for myself for a change?”

Haldir was looking at her, a storm brewing in his eyes. “And you chose me because you knew I wouldn’t say no.”

“No! It’s not like that at all!” She wanted to stamp her feet in frustration, not unlike Drauglan had done the day before. “Why are you being like this? I didn’t think you’d mind kissing me that much, taken into consideration how eager you were for it the last time.”

“I already told you, that was a mistake and not to be repeated.” Haldir’s voice was growing louder as well. “I thought we had learned from that mistake, that we had an agreement. Did you not tell me just a few weeks ago that you wanted us to be friends?”

“Well, you are friends with Bereth, aren’t you?” It came out more sharply than she had intended. “At least that’s the term she insists on using. And I have it on good authority that the two of you do more than just kissing.”

“Leave Bereth out of this,” he said immediately. “My relationship with her has nothing to do with you.” It seemed as though he was going to say more, but instead, he turned away from her, the tense set of his shoulders betraying an inner struggle. His distress was palpable and genuine, and Filanna felt the first naggings of guilt and regret. Valar, what if she had truly ruined things for good this time?

“Do you find me that repulsive, then?” she finally asked in a small voice.

Her question was met by silence. In the end, she heard him sigh and he turned around slowly. “Filanna, how can you say that? How can you possibly think… Did the way I kissed you just now tell you nothing at all?”

He came back to her, speaking in a much gentler tone. “Listen to me carefully now, princess, because this is something I need you to remember. You are very beautiful and very desirable and you tempt me more than you can possibly imagine.” He brought his fingers to her chin and applied gentle pressure, forcing her to look up and meet his eyes. “But let’s be honest. You and I have not exactly made the best start and until very recently you could drink my blood. Would it not be more prudent if we tried being friends first, like we agreed?”

“You think me desirable?” Filanna squeaked, blinking up at him incredulously.

“I have always thought so.” He smiled at her. “Do you not remember how outrageously I flirted with you upon our first meeting?”

“Of course, but...” She lowered her eyes. “But still you want only to be friends.”

“Until a few moments ago, I thought that was what _you_ wanted, and I have tried to behave accordingly.” Haldir shook his head slightly. “I am a little surprised we are having this conversation at all, Filanna. I always assumed that if anyone were to receive your attentions, it would be Orophin.”

“Here we go again.” She could not help but roll her eyes at him. “How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not interested in Orophin that way.”

“I didn’t think you were interested in me that way, either,” he said dryly, and she blushed, for although she felt very attracted to him at this moment, it was as much a surprise to her as it was to him.

“Whatever the case, this won’t go any further tonight,” Haldir said. “Kissing you was wonderful, and I very much want to do it again, but our relationship has been volatile so far and I don’t want to make any more mistakes. We should take some time to find out if we can bear each other’s company for longer than five minutes, preferably without biting each other’s heads off.” He smiled. “You may feel very differently in a couple of weeks... or even as soon as tomorrow.”

“And if I don’t?” she said, her voice holding a challenge.

“If you don’t…” He cocked his head slightly, cracking a little smile. “Well, who knows? I might allow you to kiss me again, if you would be so inclined.”

She blushed at that. “I know I acted a bit brazenly tonight, Haldir, but I do feel embarrassed. Please don’t tease me too cruelly.”

“I will do my best.” Haldir brushed a stray lock out of her eyes. “I can make no promises, though. I enjoy teasing you too much, almost as much as I enjoy the kissing itself.”

Filanna held her breath, because from the way he was regarding her it seemed he was contemplating the idea of kissing her again; but in the end he only said, “Do not be embarrassed, Filanna. I am glad you did what you did. I was not at first, but I am now.” He paused and then added with a smile, “A little spontaneity is very becoming on you. As is that dress, by the way, but I think I already told you that once tonight.”

“Is it really?” She looked down at herself. “Legolas seemed to think it was too revealing.”

“Did he?” Haldir chuckled. “Only because he is your brother and can’t look at you the way other males do, princess. Either that, or he was just pulling your leg. Trust me, it is a fine dress and you look exquisite in it. It would be a crime to keep curves like yours under wraps all the time.”

She flushed, inwardly berating herself for responding to him like that. She was starting to enjoy his compliments far too much, but it was beyond her control; the things he said turned her knees to pudding, especially when he was looking at her the way he was now, with warmth and sincerity and that ever-present hint of male appraisal.

Thinking it best to brush past his final remark, she uncomfortably shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Haldir?”

“Yes?”

She bit her bottom lip. “I guess I should say... thank you. Thank you for being patient with me. I know I can be a handful, and the way I’ve treated you didn’t always warrant your kindness. What I said about you and Bereth earlier... you are right, it is not my concern. I was out of line, and I’m sorry.”

For a few moments he studied her face without speaking, and although it cost her every last ounce of willpower she possessed, she held his gaze without flinching.

“I appreciate that, Filanna,” he finally said, a gentle smile plucking at the corners of his mouth. “Consider it already forgotten. My own behaviour tonight wasn’t all that exemplary either.”

“I disagree,” she said softly. “You have been a perfect gentleman, and I have very much enjoyed your company. It… it would please me to spend more time with you in the upcoming weeks.”

He was looking at her somewhat incredulously, as if he still couldn’t quite believe she was addressing him in such an affectionate manner. “I would like that, as well. But do not forget that your brother is visiting, Filanna. He will be expecting you to spend time with him, and he would be right to do so. I would not have you neglect him because of me.”

“I am not planning on neglecting him. But, Haldir…” She started laughing. “You have a thing or two to learn about my brother, if you think that Legolas will be lonely without me.”

xxx

Haldir returned to the party for the sole purpose of delivering Filanna’s message to her brother. In truth, he would rather not go anywhere near the revelry at all, but he was bound to it by the promise he had made her, one she was expecting him to keep. The festivity didn’t appear to have suffered from their absence, as almost everyone was now dancing and the musicians were playing one stirring tune after another, the time for courtly dances now long over.

Haldir knew it was unlikely that he would find Legolas sitting at the sideline, so when he arrived and spotted Filanna’s brother in the revelling crowd, dancing like there was no tomorrow, he wasn’t at all surprised. Legolas was the guest of honour and a most grateful recipient of the attentions bestowed upon him. However, it made the fulfillment of Haldir’s promise to Filanna that much more complicated, as he had no other choice than to linger at the sideline and wait for the dance to end. His brothers were nowhere to be seen, and he reckoned that was probably for the best, for he couldn’t think of anything he would want to say to them. It was actually painful to be amongst people right now, his head full of images and thoughts he would rather take up to his talan and mull over in privacy.

Almost a month now, since he last took a female. Four weeks minus one day, that was how long he had denied himself the pleasure that was to be found in a lover’s arms. He had had good reasons for doing so, but there was a world of difference between a decision rationally made and the physical needs that were inherent to being male. He was known for his self-control and generally stoic walk of life, but he was still an ellon of flesh and blood like any other. And tonight, as he kissed the elleth he desired above all others, his body’s response had been fierce and immediate, his urges coming on so hard and strong that the rope of his self-restraint had almost snapped. Had the kiss been allowed to go on any longer, he might not have been able to turn and walk away, and he wasn’t convinced that Filanna would have done anything to stop him, had he not stopped himself. For the first time he had felt no resistance in her, no reserve; and even though she was clearly an inexperienced kisser, she had given herself to him completely, for just a few moments. He would think it a mistake, dismiss it as an illusion created by his sex-deprived mind, if he did not remember it so clearly. Even now, it was enough to make the hairs at the back of his neck stand up, his desire stir anew.

He really did not want to talk to her brother right now. It was a distraction, as was everything else that stood between him and the privacy of his home. If only he had what it took to say no to a pair of lovely blue eyes, he wouldn’t be here, bearing involuntary witness to his fellow citizens’ drunken cheer. He was a Marchwarden of Lothlórien-- one who, apparently, took his orders from a princess of Mirkwood. That, and that alone, was why he now found himself at a party he had no desire to attend, waiting for the young Prince of Mirkwood to finish dancing, an event that didn’t seem likely to occur anytime soon. The band was playing ever louder and faster, and the crowd responded accordingly, but there was none who danced with more abandon than Legolas. Even to the casual observer, he was clearly the focal point on the dance floor, and – in contrast to his sister – seemed to be enjoying himself tremendously in that role.

“They are a breath of fresh air.”

The Lady Galadriel, who seemed to possess the ability to appear out of thin air in any given place at any given time, let these enigmatic words be followed by silence, her eyes not on Haldir but on the crowd of dancing Galadhrim and the laughing, foreign prince in their midst.

“My lady?”

“Thranduil’s children.” The Lady’s air was one of thoughtfulness, a gentle smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Beautiful like spring blossoms, all of them. They possess that spark, that kernel of divine light that makes others feel blessed to gaze upon them.” She paused once more. “They bring change to Lothlórien.”

Haldir looked away from her. He was deeply devoted to both Celeborn and Galadriel, but even the Lady of Light was currently an unwelcome intruder, all the more so because she could surely sense his inner turmoil, and guess the cause of it. “I do not desire change.”

The Lady smiled and touched his arm briefly as she left his side, saying softly, “Do you not desire it, or do you fear it? Think on that, Haldir, for there is a world of difference between the two.”

The dance finally ended, and Haldir wasted no time in making his way through the crowd, determined to reach the prince before the band could strike up a new jig. “Prince Legolas, a moment of your time?”

Legolas nodded, wiping perspiration off his brow along with a stray lock of his hair. “Two, if you wish it.”

Haldir thought he knew what the Lady Galadriel had been referring to earlier. Legolas, like his siblings, was not only exceptionally fair but possessed a friendliness and openness of character that shone through in his face. A smile seemed to be hiding in the corner of his mouth at all times, and it was especially in that mouth and in the eyes that Haldir saw the resemblances with Filanna. She didn’t give her smiles as quickly as her brother, but when she did, they were radiant and infectious. They spread joy among their peers, the princes and princesses of Mirkwood, and Arda was a better place because of it.

“Concerning your sister, she… she has asked me to tell you…” Haldir raised his voice when the revellers around them welcomed the next tune with cheers of approval. “She wanted you to know that she has retired for the night.”

Legolas nodded, looking at Haldir as though he was expecting more. “And…?”

“I…” Haldir hesitated, only for a fraction of a moment. Suddenly it felt as though he had to explain the circumstances, clarify the situation before Filanna’s brother drew his own conclusions. “I deemed it needful to escort her to her talan, as she was fatigued and slightly inebriated. She is safely home now.”

“Very well, thank you.” Legolas, still looking vaguely nonplussed, took the hand of his dance partner, a pretty elleth who looked at the prince as though he was the best thing since lembas bread. “But you really needn’t have come all this way just to tell me that, Haldir. My sister is a grown elleth, who can take care of herself. And I…” – he slapped Haldir’s shoulder amicably and gave him a sunny smile – “… am not her keeper.”

xxx

Filanna had never been more grateful for her brother’s company than she was the morning after the celebration. She hadn’t slept so well, plagued as she was by the many memories and impressions the evening had left her with. Dancing with Haldir, the intimate scene she had witnessed afterwards, the kiss and then the things he had said to her... they had long kept her awake, her mind spinning and her body atingle with the lingering sensations his physical nearness had roused in her. He had called her desirable, beautiful; and he had said it with such sincerity that for the first time, she had actually believed him. And even now that she was sober, and had had ample time to reflect on things, that thought still gave her a funny feeling in the pit of her belly. When exactly had Haldir started affecting her in this way?

If there was one thing that pushed Filanna out of her comfort zone, it was the loss of control. She had to be in control of her emotions and feelings at all times; if she wasn’t, she felt unbalanced and vulnerable, and she had learned to avoid situations that made her feel that way. And then Haldir had come along. Whenever she was with him, she felt her self-control slipping, a fraction at a time. It was a dangerous development, but one she couldn’t seem to stop. And at this point, she wasn’t even sure anymore whether she wanted to.

Sharing a walk with Legolas, and speaking with him as they strolled aimlessly along the paths and stairways of Caras Galadhon, offered a most welcome distraction-- an opportunity to reconnect with the Filanna she had been before she came to Lórien, the one who did not have improper thoughts about a Marchwarden with silver hair and inscrutable grey eyes. It was a beautiful morning and the birds sang out their appreciation of that fact, filling the air with their trills and twitters. The warm sunlight filtered through the foliage above, creating enchanting patterns on the smooth bark of the mallorn trees.

“So,” was one of the first things she said to Legolas, “tell me about last night. Did you have a good time?”

“Did I ever.” Legolas cast her a sidelong glance, grinning with roguish delight. “The Galadhrim know a thing or two about throwing a do, I’ll give them that.”

She smiled in agreement, strangely pleased to hear Legolas speak praising words of their Lórien kindred. “What do you think of Caras Galadhon? Does it please you?”

He glanced about him, allowing himself a moment to take in the city before answering. “Well, it certainly is different.”

She knew instantly what he meant. Caras Galadhon, with its light open spaces and almost ethereal allure, was almost the polar opposite of their father’s realm in Mirkwood, where the presence of the Shadow was ever felt. “Very.”

“It is beautiful.” He smiled at her. “It is also a labyrinth, though. How anyone finds their way around here is beyond me.”

“I know how you feel.” She chuckled. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t get lost a few times myself, but you’ll get used to it.”

“Mmm. Well, I suppose it helps to have one of the Galadhrim showing you around, doesn’t it?”

Legolas’s suggestive grin made her instantly suspicious. “What exactly are you insinuating, Legolas?”

“Oh, I see.” Legolas’s grin broadened. “Is this how you want to play it, Filly? You are really going to make me drag it out of you?” He gave her a teasing nudge. “You can look me straight in the eye and swear on father’s crown that there is nothing going on between you and the Marchwarden?”

Filanna rarely blushed in the presence of her brother, but the unexpected mention of Haldir set her face ablaze in an instant. “Legolas, I don’t know where you get such a foolish notion-”

“Oh, come.” Her insincere protest only served to amuse him further. “My little wallflower of a sister asked the Marchwarden of Lothlórien to dance, and you expect me to believe that means nothing? Besides, I’ve seen the way you look at him, and I have to say, it is not at all like my baby sister to ogle an ellon like that.” Legolas concluded in a triumphant tone, “You are entirely infatuated with him.”

“I am not.” She gave him a shove. “Stop jumping to conclusions over one dance. If dancing is the criterion, you must be in love with half the females in Caras Galadhon by now.”

“Maybe I am.”

She sighed, half annoyed and half amused. “Valar, you are incorrigible.”

“There was more than just the dance, Filly.” Her words didn’t make the slightest impression on Legolas, who seemed determined to pursue the matter until she broke down and confessed. “There is also the matter of him escorting you home in a ‘slightly inebriated’ state, as he called it.”

Filanna raised her eyes to the sky briefly. “He insisted on it. And he can be very persuasive.”

Legolas smirked. “I’m sure he can.”

“Elbereth! Will you let it rest, please?” She took pause, fully aware that he was baiting her, and that she may already have given too much away by responding to his provocations. She sighed again before continuing, “Between you and me, I don’t know how I feel about him, and that’s the honest to Eru truth. Feelings are… complicated things.”

“I won’t argue with you there.” Legolas was silent for a while, his manner more serious when he continued, “This friend of yours… Inis. Tell me about her.”

“Inis? Why?” She turned, surprised to see Legolas’s sheepish look. “Legolas Thranduilion, you have not even seen the sun complete one full cycle since you arrived in Caras Galadhon, and already you are preying on my friends?”

“Just the one.” Legolas chuckled. “And I’m not preying, Filly. Come, be a dear, tell me what she’s like.”

“Well…” Filanna allowed herself a moment’s consideration, wanting to do justice to the elleth she had come to love. “She is a good friend to me. She designs and makes clothes for a living, and she is good at it, too. Half my wardrobe is from her hand. She can be a bit sarcastic, but she is kind and generous, and very independent, very strong. I respect her tremendously.”

“How did the two of you meet?”

“Through… through her son.” Filanna smiled self-consciously. “Oh, I should probably have mentioned that first, shouldn’t I?”

Legolas slowed his step. “She has a child?”

“His name is Drauglan. I teach him archery.” She hesitated. “Inis lost her husband a few decades ago. In all honesty, Legolas, I’m not sure if she is ready to be wooed. The ellon who is to follow in Drauglan’s father’s footsteps will have to meet some very high standards.”

Legolas pondered all this for a moment or two. “Thank you for telling me,” he said at length. “I would never have guessed… She seems so young and unspoiled by the evils of the world. I regret that she has had to experience such a loss.”

“So do I,” Filanna said. “But Drauglan is an adorable child, who gives his Nana great joy. I teach him this afternoon. You should come and watch, perhaps show him some of your flashy tricks. He’ll surely be impressed by that.”

“I think I will take you up on that offer.” Legolas smiled broadly, hooking his arm through hers. “My little sister as a teacher… that is something I have to see!”

“I know, I still can’t quite believe it myself.” She bit her lip. “Legolas, what I just told you about Haldir… Can I trust you to keep that between us? Haldir and I have had a strained relationship in the past, and we’re still in the process of mending it. I don’t want to put that in jeopardy.”

“Of course you can trust me,” he said. “But for what it’s worth, I think it’s wonderful that you’re putting yourself out there. It was about time that you did.”

She snorted and gave him a sidelong glare. “I choose not to respond to that.”

He laughed. “In all seriousness, sister. You are a catch, and if Haldir is smart, he will snap you up before someone else does.”

“Valar, are you done?” Filanna was growing more flustered. “I am not some prize to be snapped up, by Haldir or anyone else for that matter.”

He hugged her quickly. “Forgive me, I express myself poorly. I’m just glad to see you come crawling out of your shell, Filly. I’m not sure what brought about this change, but it seems we have the Galadhrim to thank for it.”

“They are good hosts,” she said with a smile. “And the Lord and Lady have been very kind to me. Frankly, I haven’t had all that much time to even feel homesick.”

“I will pass that on to our parents when I return home. Mother gave Ada a pretty hard time for leaving you behind all by yourself.”

She made a face and chuckled. “She needn’t have done that. He had only the best of intentions.”

With a smile, Legolas went on, “I’ll have you know, though, that your sisters are green with jealousy. If they thought before that you are father’s favourite, now they are absolutely convinced of it, and I don’t think he’ll ever hear the end of their nagging.”

“Oh, no.” Filanna groaned in sympathy. “Poor Ada! What suffering he must endure on my behalf.”

Legolas grinned. “Don’t torment yourself over it. He has dealt with worse things than Ameria’s tantrums.”

Filanna lapsed into reverie, smiling wistfully as she pictured her father enduring the storm of her sisters’ discontent. She suddenly experienced a small wave of nostalgia and hankering for her family, the first in a while.

“I do miss them,” she confessed. “Ada and Naneth and everyone else. I even miss Dineth and Ameria, if you’ll believe it.”

“It is the end of the world as we know it.” Legolas grinned. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say Lórien is making you soft, Filly.”

“No, not soft.” She thought about it for a moment or two, searching for the right words to describe the changes she had gone through recently. She hadn’t always welcomed those changes, some had even outright frightened her – and still did – but if she was honest, she regretted none of them… at least not anymore.

“To tell you the truth, Legolas?” She smiled at her beloved brother and gave him an affectionate nudge with her shoulder. “I think I am more myself now than I ever was.”


	16. Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Filanna had been looking forward to introducing Legolas and Drauglan to each other, because she expected the two to get along splendidly, but to her disappointment and surprise things did not quite turn out that way. Despite Legolas’s best attempts at befriending the elfling, Drauglan seemed suspicious of the prince from the very first moment, and carried himself in an antagonistic manner that was so unlike him that Filanna felt she couldn't turn a blind eye. When she asked him what was wrong, Drauglan’s veneer cracked under her very eyes, and he all but burst into tears.

“He is going to take you away from us, isn’t he?” The boy was addressing Filanna, but his accusatory gaze was directed at Legolas. “That is why he has come, isn’t it? To take you back to Mirkwood?”

With a sigh, Filanna knelt in front of her angry and distraught pupil. “Have we not discussed this before, Drauglan?” she reminded him gently. “I have no intention of leaving anytime soon, and Legolas will be the very last person to try and convince me otherwise. His only goal in coming here was to visit me, and to see the Golden Wood for himself. I promise you, that is the truth.”

Legolas joined in, “Even if I did wish to bring Filanna home, I could only do so with her consent. It is a lost cause trying to make my sister do anything against her wishes.”

Filanna smiled at the child. “Does this comfort you, mellon nîn? My brother is very dear to me, and it would give me such joy if the two of you got along. His skill as an archer is unparalleled; there is much that you could learn from him.”

These reassuring words succeeded in bringing down Drauglan’s guard somewhat, and he defrosted even more when Legolas proceeded to give a small demonstration of aforementioned skills with bow and arrow. His prize trick, a bull’s eye shot with three arrows fired at once, made a particular impression on the young Galadhel, as Filanna had expected it would. But despite her reassurances, the suspicious spark never faded completely from Drauglan’s eyes, not even over the course of the following days, as Legolas became a regular presence during Drauglan’s lessons. He took a genuine interest in the child, whose aptitude for the sport was already manifest, and Filanna was glad for his company and for his assistance, for there was no false modesty in calling Legolas the better archer. Unlike her, Legolas also had a natural rapport with children, and he took Drauglan's hostility in his stride.

A few days had passed like this when one afternoon, Drauglan arrived at the archery field with his mother in tow. This was a rare occurrence, as Drauglan was used to roaming the pathways of the city on his own and didn’t need his mother escorting him around. Filanna was glad to see Inis, whom she hadn’t spoken to in a few days, and could not help but smile to herself when she saw the way Legolas’s eyes latched on to her friend, who was modelling a ruby red dress of her own making. It was clear that her brother was enamoured with the pretty widow, and Filanna could not applaud his good taste more, but she honestly didn’t think he stood much of a chance.

“Hello, Filanna.” Inis let her warm greeting be followed by a curtsey. “Prince Legolas, good day.”

Legolas, with the perfect gallantry his noble upbringing had taught him, made a bow. “Good day, Inis. An unexpected pleasure it is to see you again. How have you fared since we last met?”

“Very well, thank you.” She gave him a look of surprise. “I... You remember my name.”

“How could I forget the name of the one who is my sister’s dear friend,” Legolas said with unaffected kindness, “as well as the mother of this promising young archer?”

Inis smiled with pleasure, her hand touching the top of Drauglan’s head affectionately. “You are very kind to take such an interest in my son. To be taught by two of Mirkwood's best archers is a privilege indeed. If you have no objections, I would very much like to stay and observe today. I shall be very quiet and not intervene.”

“You are more than welcome to stay, Inis,” Filanna said. “Drauglan, why don’t we give your Nana a demonstration of the new things you learned this week?”

Drauglan agreed happily, and as he geared up for the lesson, and Inis found a soft patch of grass to sit down upon, Filanna grasped Legolas’s arm and said in a whisper intended for his ears only, “A word of advice, brother, if you’re willing to hear it.”

He smirked and made a face. “I’m listening.”

She pinched his arm briefly. “Remember what I told you about Inis. I can fully understand your regard for her, but you might be biting off more than you can chew here. Drauglan is by no means a gullible child, and his current opinion of you leaves something to be desired. Even if you do manage to find your way into Inis’s good graces, Drauglan’s interest will always come first for her.”

The lesson passed pleasantly after that. With his mother present, Drauglan was at his best behaviour, striving to impress, and Filanna was relieved to see Legolas behaving in the same easy manner as he always did. It would take more than mere skill with a bow and arrow to impress Inis, and Legolas was sensible enough to realize that. Her doubts notwithstanding, Filanna thought it would be interesting to see how this flirtation would play out. Her brother usually didn’t have to work very hard for female attention, but then, Filanna was sure he had never dealt with a sassy widow and her son before.

Filanna didn’t have much attention for her surroundings while she was focused on the lesson, so it was only after she called it a day and sent Drauglan to retrieve his arrows, that she saw him: Haldir. With one shoulder he was leaning against a mallorn trunk in a casual pose, his arms crossed, and he was looking at her. Her heart made a little jump when their eyes connected, and she wondered how long he had stood there, watching her while she was unaware. After a moment’s hesitation, she raised her hand in greeting, and he acknowledged her with a nod. Perhaps this was what encouraged her to make her next move, her knees buckling traitorously as she walked towards him. She had not spoken to him since the night of the celebration, and she prayed to Elbereth that he would not notice how nervous she became in his presence, and how very giddy the memory of that one passionate kiss still made her feel.

“You shouldn’t lurk in the shadows, Haldir,” she said to him in a conversational tone. “Why didn’t you come out and join us?”

“I had no desire to,” he answered. “And I did not want to be a distraction.”

She was about to object that he would not have been a distraction, when she realized that he would, in fact, have been exactly that. “I am glad to see you,” she said instead.

“I cannot stay.” When her face fell at that, he went on quickly, “But there is something I wanted to ask you. I know you are committed to certain responsibilities, but is there a chance you can clear your schedule for a day? Tomorrow for instance, or the day after that?”

His question caught her off-guard. “I… I think so. I can discuss it with Felegron, find someone to trade shifts. Why?”

Haldir rubbed his chin slowly. “There is a small lake not too far from here. I used to go there regularly, but it’s been a while since I had the opportunity. I thought I might make the trip tomorrow. Perhaps you would like to join me?”

“Oh.” Filanna’s heart leapt, pounding almost painfully against her ribcage. “Yes, I would like that, very much!”

Haldir’s lips quirked ever so slightly at her enthusiastic response. “Mind you, from here to the lake and back again is a day’s hike, and whilst you’ll see some of the prettiest scenery Lórien has to offer on the way, it is not an easy walk. We’ll cross the Celebrant once and the hills we’ll climb are rocky and steep.”

“Even better,” she said happily. “A little physical exertion doesn’t deter me, Haldir. I’m not made of porcelain.”

“That I know.” Haldir gave her a barely perceptible wink. “And believe me, I know better than to suggest otherwise, Filanna.”

Something about the way he pronounced her name – warmly, and with the distinctive lilt of his Lórien tongue – made her knees wobble again, and she wondered for what felt like the thousandth time what in the name of Elbereth was wrong with her.

“I’ll… I’ll take it up with Felegron,” she said, scrambling for coherency. “I’m sure something can be arranged.”

“Good.” He was smiling, really smiling, as though nothing gave him greater joy than the prospect of going on a cross-country hike with her. Something behind her then drew his attention, however, drawing his eyes away from her face and causing his smile to fade. Confused by his reaction, she looked over her shoulder and followed his gaze to where Legolas and Inis were standing together, with Drauglan at his mother’s side. Legolas was speaking in an animated manner, larding his speech with the expressive gesticulations he often used in conversation. Legolas was a master of anecdotes, and Filannna was not at all surprised to see Inis laughing heartily. Even on Drauglan’s face there was a smile.

“What’s the matter?” Filanna asked. She failed to detect anything disconcerting about the scene, but Haldir’s smile had now vanished completely.

“Either I am very much mistaken,” he said slowly, “or your brother is flirting with Inis.”

She glanced over her shoulder again, not so much to study the scene again as to buy herself some time. “What if he is? She doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Be that as it may, I don’t like it,” he stated bluntly. “You might want to inform your brother that he is barking up the wrong tree.”

“I beg your pardon?” She stared at him incredulously. “I think we should let Inis be the judge of that, don’t you?”

He smiled slightly to soften his words. “No offense, princess, but you have known Inis for three months. I have known her since before she came of age, and she is as close as kin to me. She is doing well now, but she went through a very difficult time after the death of her husband. I do not want to see her get hurt again.”

Filanna processed this for a moment, scowling. “So, what you are saying is that Legolas can’t possibly be a good match for Inis because he is a soldier and stands a higher chance at getting killed than, say, a potter or a candlestick maker?”

“No,” Haldir said with trained patience, “I’m saying that if Legolas is looking for an elleth to entertain him during his stay here, he is wasting his time with Inis. She will not consider a new relationship unless it is one of lifelong commitment.”

“Who is to say Legolas can’t give her that?” Filanna knew she was getting wound up over nothing, but she couldn’t help but come to her brother’s defense. “You know a thing or two about Inis, I’ll grant you that. But I have grown up with my brother, and I’ll have you know that he is devoted and loyal, and any elleth would be lucky to have him as her mate. Besides, Inis is far more sensible than you give her credit for. She doesn’t need you and your good intentions hovering over her. You may be her friend, but you have no right whatso-”

He silenced her mid-rant, placing a forefinger across her lips as she was speaking. She stilled instantly at the unexpected touch, her wide eyes locking with his.

“Shh,” he said softly. “We were doing so well. Take a breath before you say things you’re going to regret.”

She did as he said, and as she slowly exhaled, she realized that she had already forgotten what she had been planning to say. Her anger was gone too, vanished like a flame blown out by a sudden gust of wind.

“Very good.” He still spoke below his breath, a flicker of amusement in his eye. “Now, when I take away my finger, will you start admonishing me again?”

She shook her head slowly, unable to look away from the eyes that held her entranced. The spell wasn’t broken until he lowered his hand and spoke again.

“Nothing I said was meant as an insult to your brother, Filanna,” he said kindly. “We’ll let it rest, nay? Agree to disagree, as they say. I do not wish to vex you any more than I already have.”

She nodded in agreement, licking her suddenly-dry lips. “Did you know him?”

“Who?”

“Inis’s husband. Did you know him well?”

“He was a warden,” Haldir replied, as though that explained everything. After a moment’s pause he added, “He was under my command in the battle that claimed his life. Of course I knew him.”

Filanna nodded slightly and sighed. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

He gave no response, but smiled to let her know that her question had not upset him. “Until tomorrow, then.”

Filanna’s spirits lifted instantly at that, the prospect of a day spent with Haldir filling her with nervous anticipation. “Until tomorrow, Haldir.”

“Make sure to get a good night’s rest.” Still smiling, Haldir turned away to leave. “We depart at first light.”

xxx

That Filanna wasn’t like most other ellith was something she had known for a long time. She had been compared to her very elegant and feminine sisters more often than she cared to remember, and the comparison had seldom turned out in her favour. She was an elleth who felt uncomfortable in a dress, couldn’t cook a decent meal to save her life, and was a better rider than most ellyn she knew. It was part of her identity, and truth be told, it usually didn’t bother her all that much. Her social skills left much to be desired, but her prowess as an archer and a rider had often enabled her to gain the respect of her brothers’ friends, ellyn who normally wouldn’t have looked at her twice. She considered herself to be more physically fit than most females, took pride in that fact, and was determined to use it to her advantage during the trek with Haldir. She had acted like a fool and made herself ridiculous over and over again, but today she would impress him, no matter what the cost.

The scenery, as per Haldir’s promise, did not disappoint. They were trekking southwards, across terrain that became increasingly rugged and diverse, and Filanna took notice of many types of trees and plants that did not grow in the vicinity of Caras Galadhon. It was not her first foray into the wilderness of Lórien – Orophin had shown her Cerin Amroth and several other parts of the forest that held some importance to the Galadhrim – but Orophin had never taken her this far from the city, and he had certainly never made her cross the torrential waters of the Celebrant on a single-rope bridge.

“It may look a bit daunting if you’ve never done it before,” Haldir said as Filanna took in the length of hithlain rope that spanned from one riverbank to the other. “I can take your pack, if you want. You’ll be better balanced without it.”

Filanna shook her head, testing the strength and the feel of the rope with her hand. “That won’t be necessary, Haldir. I think I’ll be fine.”

“Keep your gaze fixed on where you’re headed,” he advised. “Looking down will only break your concentration, so let your feet do the work. If you do fall in…” He paused. “There is a curve in the river a little further downstream, where the torrent is not quite so strong. You should be able to pull yourself ashore there.”

“Well, that is very reassuring.” She made a face at him. “At least I’ll know not to count on you jumping in to save me.”

He smiled. “With any other elleth, princess, I would do exactly that. You, on the other hand, don’t strike me as the type who would appreciate such an act of gallantry. I can already picture how my valiant rescue attempt would play out: you would fight me and argue with me every inch of the way, and not even give me so much as a ‘thank you’ for my efforts.”

Filanna barely suppressed a smile. “Perhaps,” she said slowly, “and perhaps not. I might surprise you. After all, I’ve done it before.”

He held her gaze, and although she could tell that he was trying to keep his expression neutral, he could not completely conceal the small fire her words kindled in his eyes. “That is certainly true."

With the sense of balance that was innate to all Firstborn, Filanna then stepped onto the rope and began walking, not pausing and not allowing herself to be distracted by the swiftly flowing water below. She kept her eyes straight ahead the whole time and, much to her own surprise, reached the other shore without trouble, landing lightly on the grass. Haldir joined her there a few moments later, and although he made no comment, he nodded as if to acknowledge her small accomplishment.

After this brief interlude, they continued the trek south in the same firm tempo as before, while the landscape became ever hillier and rougher. They didn’t speak much, not in the least part because Filanna kept halting to admire the vistas, until Haldir had a considerable lead on her. He did however make sure to stay in her sight at all times. She felt in her element-- in fact, she thrived on this sort of physical activity. Temperatures were rising along with the sun, and although Haldir didn’t seem too bothered by the heat, he had at some point taken off his overtunic, leaving only the airy linen shirt he wore underneath it.

Anor had barely grazed its point of zenith when they came to a steep and rocky hill that was decidedly cliff-like in appearance. There was no visible path to the top, and the surface of the rocks was overgrown with moss.

“The shortest route to the lake leads across this hill,” announced Haldir, who had halted and waited for Filanna to catch up with him.

Filanna made a cynical face, using the moment of respite to adjust her backpack. “Of course it does.”

“It is not very far to the summit, but it is a steep climb and it can be slippery on the way up,” he said. “I’ll stay close by, in case you need assistance.”

“You are welcome to do that, if you can keep up with me.” Filanna grinned, brimming with confidence as she brushed past Haldir, placed her right foot on a protruding rock and pulled herself up. “I climb like a lizard.”

It had probably been a mistake to say those bold words out loud, but she didn’t realize that until she was mid-climb. She _was_ an excellent climber, but the slope was almost vertical in places and the mossy rocks made for a difficult ascent that wasn’t without its perils. A few times, she felt her feet starting to slip, but she was able to correct her stance every time, narrowly escaping the humiliation of making a tumble down the hillside and possibly dragging Haldir along with her.

The climb became easier higher up, where the ground was mostly dry and offered better grip for hands and feet. The slope gradually became less steep, until Filanna reached the summit safely, pausing to catch her breath and investigate her appearance. The moss had left green smears on her clothes, her hands were grimy and there was dirt under her fingernails. She usually wasn’t fussy about the way she looked, but at this moment she would have given much for a little water and soap.

“This lake you are taking me to had better be the most spectacular of all lakes in Middle-earth, Haldir,” she jested, slapping the dirt off her tunic and leggings as best she could.

Haldir chuckled as he came up behind her. “I promise you will not be disappointed. We only descend from here, so the hardest part is over. It shouldn’t take us more than two hours to reach our destination.”

Filanna nodded and wiped her forehead with her sleeve. “Good.”

Having regarded her for a silent moment or two, Haldir glanced up at the sun and observed, “It is getting hot. Come, let us find a place in the shade and take rest for a short while.”

Filanna was of the same mind, and they set themselves down on a nearby patch of grass, where the canopy of a large ash tree offered protection against the midday sun. The reprieve was welcome, and it seemed to Filanna that the heartbeat of the forest was heard strongest here, the sounds and smells of Lórien assaulting her senses. The air, rank with the sweet scent of lavender, vibrated with the heat, only a weak summer breeze stirring the leaves above. Crickets were chirping and a solitary woodpecker made itself heard in the distance.

“I still can’t get used to the fact that we’re sitting here both unarmed,” she told Haldir between two bites of lembas bread. “At home in Mirkwood, no one ventures outside the walls of our city without at least a bow and a good supply of arrows.”

“Oh, I could do some damage with this, if the need arose.” Haldir held up the small knife he had just used to slice an apple. “But I can assure you that we are perfectly safe here. The borders of our land are the most secure in Middle-earth.”

“I know that, and I do feel safe.” She paused until he met her gaze. “What you do… what Orophin and Rúmil do, and all the other wardens… you are to be commended for that. It is no small thing, being away from home so often, risking your lives day after day just so that others can spend theirs in peace.” She fell silent, playing absent-mindedly with the ribbon she had pulled from her dishevelled braid a little earlier. “I wonder... How does one make the decision to pursue such a life? And where do you find the strength to keep going back, year after year?”

“It is not for everyone,” he agreed. “I have known wardens who resigned after years of loyal service because it was taking too much of a toll. There are those who say that it is their families from which they draw the strength to keep coming back, to keep fighting. Others forsake family and choose an uncommitted life, because they feel it is an advantage in battle.” He seemed to hesitate a moment before clarifying, “Unbound ellyn have less to lose than those that are husbands and fathers.”

“How sad,” Filanna said. The words had barely left her lips when something occurred to her. “Are you… are you one of them?”

It was probably one of the most personal questions she had asked him thus far, and she wasn’t really surprised when he gave no response. He even appeared to avoid her gaze as he finished eating his apple without saying so much as a word. When he finally did look up, all he said was, “I really like your hair like that. You have such beautiful hair, but the braid doesn’t do it justice.”

“Oh.” She self-consciously ran her fingers through her loose tresses. “I would leave it like this, but it is so hot and sticky today. And I am not convinced you are done dragging me through brambles for the day, Haldir. Until that moment comes, the braid stays.”

He laughed at that, and she breathed a small sigh of relief. She knew she had overstepped a boundary, asking him that question, and he clearly wasn’t going to give her an answer, but at least he wasn’t angry with her because of it.

As Haldir had predicted, they encountered no more obstacles on the final part of the journey, and they were able to maintain a firm pace despite the rising temperatures. Nonetheless, when they finally reached their destination – a secluded, idyllic little lake bordered by trees on all sides – it was all Filanna could do not to take a run and dive head first into the water, clothes and all. Instead, she dropped her backpack and stretched herself out on a shaded patch of grass, face down.

“Go ahead, make yourself comfortable.” Haldir, who sounded amused, set down his pack also. “Now tell me, was this not worth the trip?”

“It is lovely, Haldir.” Filanna’s reply was a little muffled, as she was too glad for the cool grass against her face to lift her head. “Very lovely indeed.”

He chuckled. “Take your time. We have arrived earlier than I expected, so you have all afternoon to cool down and appreciate the surroundings. You performed admirably, Filanna.”

She hummed in contentment. “Yes, tell me, how did I fare in comparison to the ellith you’ve brought here before? I’m dying to know this.”

“I couldn’t tell you.” A moment’s silence. “I’ve never brought anyone here.”

This was not the answer she had expected, and she sat up, turning around to face him. “Never?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, as though it was of no importance at all that he had invited her to be part of an experience he usually didn’t share with anyone. She ached to ask him why, but she felt sure that this question, too, would remain unanswered. Haldir kept his cards close to his chest, and it was clear that there were some things he did not yet wish to share with her. He seemed lost in thought even now, his eyes slightly out of focus as he, to Filanna’s great surprise, lowered his hands to his waist and unbuckled his belt.

“What are you doing?” she said sharply.

His gaze snapped back to hers and his fingers paused on the button he had been about to flick open, halfway down the front of his tunic. “Forgive me, in my absent-mindedness I forgot to warn you.” He gave a half smirk. “You may want to turn around for a moment, princess. Unless you wish to watch me undress, of course, in which case I will gladly put on a little show for your enjoyment.”

“Undress?” Filanna echoed, her voice sounding feeble to her own ears. “Why?”

“Well…” He shrugged again and laughed. “We just walked a total distance of eighteen miles on a hot summer’s day, Filanna. A princess can do that without perspiring, perhaps, but I cannot. I am sticky and I wish to cleanse myself.”

“Oh.” She averted her eyes as he grasped the back of his tunic with both hands and pulled it over his head. She was probably blushing, but her face was so warm already that she didn’t really feel the difference.

“Feel free to join me anytime,” he said as one of his boots hit the ground, followed closely by the other. “There isn’t a more pleasurable way to refresh your weary limbs, I promise you.”

Filanna snorted sarcastically. “If you think I’m going to disrobe in front of you, think again.” She tried to keep her tone light, but there was no denying the flutter of excitement his words stirred in her, not dissimilar to the tingle she felt in her belly every time she thought of the way he had kissed her a few days earlier. “No such luck for you today, Haldir.”

“Suit yourself.” From the corner of her eye, she saw his leggings join the growing pile on the grass. “You will be so kind as to guard my clothes then, won’t you?”

She heard him moving away, but kept her gaze pointed in the opposite direction until she was sure he was in the water. Only then did she sneak a peek over her shoulder to verify that the coast was clear, slowly turning around to watch him swim. His arms were slicing through the water with graceful strokes, barely creating a ripple, and yet he was rapidly increasing the distance between himself and the shore. Slowly she drew her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around them as she contemplated what had just happened. In hindsight, she could have seen this coming from miles away, and she felt rather foolish for having been caught off-guard. How naive she was!

Was he truly expecting her to follow his example and join him in the water? Was that what Bereth would do, if she were here with him? It probably was. Bereth didn’t strike her as an elleth who would have reservations about that sort of thing. Filanna wished she could be more like her; she wished she was comfortable enough in her own body to enjoy a skinny dip with a male friend, or any friend for that matter. As it was, she didn’t think she had been seen unclothed by anyone since she was a toddler, and never by someone who wasn’t related to her.

She set to making herself comfortable, taking off her boots and belt, and pulling her pack closer so that she could rest her head upon it as she stretched out on the grass. For a little while she tried to find the perfect position, but she found that her braid hindered her, so she sat up to remove it. As she was doing so, her eye fell on Haldir’s discarded tunic.

The garment still lay where he had thrown it, a rumpled mess on the grass. It was not his best tunic, but still: so careless of him! Without thinking, she picked it up and started folding it, pausing halfway to smile at herself when she realized what she was doing. For a few moments, she contemplated the fabric in her hands. It was silly, but it felt almost too intimate, touching this piece of clothing that had been in direct contact with his skin all day. She looked for Haldir, but he was already at a safe distance from the shore and wasn’t paying any attention to her. Still, she felt a little self-conscious as she brought his shirt to her face and held the fabric to her cheek. It did smell like him, especially along the collar, and she also caught a whiff of the soap he used. She couldn’t quite determine the scent, but it was masculine, like everything about him.

She sighed and continued folding, wondering what Legolas would say if he could see her right now. He would doubtlessly have a thought or two to share with her, and Filanna had a strong suspicion as to what they would be. It made her all the more grateful for the fact that her brother was miles away, and unaware of her predicament. She loved him dearly, but the situation with Haldir was one she had to resolve without his help and advice, no matter how well-intended it might be.

Once stretched out on the grass in a comfortable position, relaxation settled in quickly, and although she didn’t mean for it to happen, she must have nodded off for a little while, lulled to sleep by the crickets’ hypnotic chirping. She woke to find someone saying her name repeatedly, and she opened her eyes but immediately closed them again, throwing up her arm to shield her face. She must have dozed longer than she thought, for the sun had shifted considerably and was now shining directly into her eyes. Once they adjusted to the light, she peeped through her eyelashes and found Haldir looming over her with a questioning look on his face. It was only at second glance that she realized he was still unclothed, his decency protected only by a towel he held loosely wrapped around his hips. He seemed to have just come out of the water, for his skin glistened wetly and thick drops of water were rolling down his chest and stomach.

“Oh, for Varda’s sake.” She promptly closed her eyes once more and sat up blindly, turning away from the direct sunlight and from him. “Are you always this shameless, Haldir?”

“I’m not sure I understand.” Haldir’s voice was kind, conversational. “This is how the Valar created me. What is there to be ashamed of?”

Filanna gave no reply. How could she begin to explain to this paragon of male confidence what it was like to be so shy that even the mere thought of his gaze on her naked skin was enough to make her blush to the very roots of her hair? He must think her so silly and prudish. She heard him moving about behind her, and after a little while he announced, “My decency has been restored, Filanna. Will you now turn and look at me again?”

She did as he requested. He was indeed in leggings again, but his torso was still bare, and her eyes lingered there involuntarily before she succeeded in dragging them up to his face. He had a beautiful physique, even she could see that, and she wanted so badly to be able to look at him without getting so flustered by his nakedness. Hopefully, in time, she would learn.

“I am sorry,” she told him, her voice barely reaching above a whisper. “The problem lies with me, not with you. I just react this way because I… I have never seen a male naked before.”

There was a smile in his voice. “You don’t say.”

She cringed slightly, and perhaps he saw that, for he came closer and knelt in front of her. “Forgive me. It is not my intent to make fun at your expense, or to force something upon you that makes you uncomfortable.” A small smile touched his lips. “My nudity isn’t usually considered offensive, so… I suppose part of me was hoping you would be appreciative.”

She processed this for a moment or two. “You mean… you were trying to impress me?”

“So it would seem,” he acknowledged, then watched with growing bewilderment as she tipped her head back and laughed heartily. “What is so amusing, princess?”

“Just that…” She was still laughing. “Oh, Haldir, the irony. This whole day has been about me trying to impress _you_. It was all I could think about when I crossed that river and climbed that cliff, that you were watching and hopefully admiring me a little. I was planning to be my very best today, charming and witty, and then you take your clothes off and I react like the uptight little prude that I am. And…” She brought her fingers to her nose, touching it tentatively. “And to top everything off, I think I got sunburn while I was sleeping.”

“Well, I suppose we both learned a lesson today, then.” Haldir smiled. “And just for the record, Filanna, you don’t have to prove to me that you are charming and witty. I already know that you are all of those things.”

She eyed him thankfully. “Really?”

“Really.” He studied her for a while. “Filanna, with regard to what happened between us a few days ago...”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” she said quickly, knowing at once what he was referring to, “and I don’t think I am going to. I do not regret it, Haldir.”

“I am glad to hear it.” His eyes bored into hers. “But surely you know that intimacy between two partners entails more than just kissing.”

She snorted. “I have six older brothers and sisters, Haldir. Suffice it to say that I know about the birds and the bees.”

“So you also realize, then, that a substantial part of it would require us to be naked on a regular basis?”

She blushed at his use of the word ‘us’ in this context. “I am aware of that, Haldir. I… I just need a little time to get used to the idea.”

He nodded, his eyes gentle. “Take all the time you need. And know that you can ask me any question you want. There is absolutely no need to feel embarrassed about the things you don’t know, and I would rather you ask me too much than too little.”

His kind words touched her and prompted her to spontaneously put her arms around his neck, embracing him somewhat awkwardly but with feeling. She had never touched him like this before, with his skin so close, and it felt good. He was still a bit damp to the touch, but she didn’t care.

“Your braid…” he remarked, lifting his fingers to touch her hair. “It is gone.”

She opened her mouth to explain the how and the why, but changed her mind at the last moment. “I did that for you,” she said instead, ending in a near-purr she hardly recognized as her own voice.

A low chuckle near her ear. “Liar.”

She smiled, closing her eyes for a moment. Her arms were still locked around his neck, and he made no move to change that situation. “You don’t do this very often, do you, spending time with ellith as friends?”

“Actually no, I don’t,” he answered truthfully. “How am I doing so far, aside from the fact that I gave you the fright of your life by parading naked in front of you?”

He was now grossly exaggerating, but rather than pointing that out, she laughed softly and assured him, “You are doing wonderfully.” She leaned back slightly and their eyes met for a moment. Then, in an impulse, she kissed him; on the cheek this time. He seemed taken aback by the gesture, but gave her an uncharacteristically sheepish smile that told her it was gratefully received.

“Here, take this,” he said, giving her a small jar he retrieved from his pack. “It is a herbal salve with healing properties. It will help soothe your sunburnt skin.”

She accepted the offering with a smile. “You have the gift of foresight, Haldir.”

He rose to his feet and looked around the meadow, spotting his neatly folded tunic and the coiled belt on top of it. He made no comment about it, but she saw his hand pause ever so briefly before picking both items up.

“Can I really not convince you to follow my example?” he asked her. “The water is not too cold, it will make you feel reborn.”

She gave no reply, biting her lip thoughtfully. She did feel rather foul and grimy after the day’s exertions, and the prospect of a refreshing dip was appealing indeed. “I didn’t bring a towel.”

“Use mine, then.” He held the cloth out to her. “You can undress a little further up, in the thicket. I promise you I will not look.”

“Swear it.” She gazed at him sternly. “Swear it on your brothers’ heads.”

He grinned and raised his hand, palm turned outwards. “On my brothers’ heads, I solemnly swear that I will keep my eyes to myself, and not so much as sneak a peek at the princess of Mirkwood whilst she is naked.”

His quasi-pompous manner made her giggle. “Fine, then,” she said, snatching the towel from his hand. “I trust you, Haldir. Don’t you make me regret it.”


	17. The Farrier

Haldir’s solemn promise notwithstanding, Filanna could not help but feel awkward as she stripped to the skin on the lakeshore. The brushwood offered adequate shelter, and she trusted Haldir not to break his word, but she still felt oddly exposed without her clothes, and she clutched them tightly to her chest as she shuffled cautiously out of her hiding place. Only at the very last moment did she dispose of them, throwing them hastily over a nearby branch before quickly lowering herself into the water. It was chilly, more so than she had expected, but her body adjusted to it quickly once she started swimming, and the exercise kept her muscles warm. She even began to really enjoy it, gladly allowing the clean, cool water to wash away the sweat and the dust of the day’s exertions. She made a mental note to thank Haldir later, for without his insistence, she would probably not have gotten so much as a toe wet.

The subject of her thoughts still sat where she had left him, in the shade of the tree she had fallen asleep under a little earlier. He sat with his head slightly bowed, and it took her a moment to realize that he was reading a book, moving only occasionally to flip a page. As she continued making lazy strokes, it occurred to her that if Haldir were to look up at some point, he was not likely to be impressed by her technique. Swimming was not a pastime she indulged in often, for the simple reason that safe places to swim were hard to come by in Mirkwood. There were hardly any lakes or ponds, and the river that ran through her father’s realm was unsuitable due to the strong current. But she was happy to simply splash around for a bit, going underwater every so often to explore the bottom and marvel at how clear the water was. One time as she came up for air, her sudden appearance startled a family of ducks, and Filanna laughed as she watched the fuzzy ducklings – eight in total – paddling quickly away, in almost perfect formation behind their mother. She then spent a few minutes floating on her back, moving her arms and legs just enough to stay stationary. Hanging in the water like this, and watching the sky overhead – azure blue like a fabric Inis might purchase at the market and use for a dress – she found it hard to believe that there could be a more idyllic place in Middle-earth than Lothlórien in summer.

When eventually she swam back to shore, eager to rejoin Haldir and tell him about the ducklings, she was greeted by a sight that dampened her spirits considerably: her tunic, which she had tossed aside rather carelessly, had fallen from the branch and landed partly in the water. What was even worse, her leggings appeared to have vanished completely-- until she finally spotted them right below her feet on the bottom of the lake, swaying gently back and forth on the cadence of the water. With a groan, she dove to retrieve them.

“Bravo, Filanna,” she muttered, tossing the heavy, sodden garment onto the grass. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.” Valar, but she was exasperated with herself. Why did this sort of thing always happen to _her_? And today of all days!

The tunic was partially dry at least, but the other part was soaked down to the very last thread, rendering it just as useless. It was a wretched situation to say the least, and she had only herself to blame for it. For a few moments, she was completely at a loss as to what to do next. She could put on her clothes as they were, and hope that they would dry quickly in the sun, but the prospect wasn’t exactly appealing. Then she remembered Haldir’s towel, which she had left a little further up, in the thicket where she had undressed. She threw a furtive glance in Haldir’s direction and pulled herself ashore, snatching up her sodden clothes and making a run for the relative shelter of the underbrush.

The towel, once she had figured out a way to wrap it securely around herself, didn’t cover quite as much skin as she would have liked, but examination from every whichaway she could turn confirmed that at least her most intimate areas were hidden from view. Muttering several more curses at herself, she gathered her things and made her way back through the trees.

To say that Haldir’s jaw dropped when she appeared would be exaggeration, but she certainly had his full attention from the moment she stepped out from the foliage. Under less embarrassing circumstances she might even have enjoyed his almost comical, wide-eyed expression.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she warned before he could say anything. “It is not by choice that I appear before you so. It just so seems that I’m not yet done blundering for the day.” To make her point, she tossed the pitiful pile of fabrics on the grass in front of him.

His reaction, or rather the lack thereof, surprised her. There was the smallest of twitches at the corner of his mouth, but otherwise he did a creditable job of keeping his face straight as he looked from the pile back up to her.

“Well?” she prodded, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Go ahead. You must be dying to say _something_.”

He cleared his throat in a poor attempt to disguise his chuckle. “I’m… speechless, actually. I was not prepared to see this much of you so soon, especially after our last conversation. Not that I’m complaining.”

Despite her predicament, Filanna could not help smiling also. This situation, however absurd, was of her own making, and she could not blame him for having a little fun at her expense. “The Valar are toying with me,” she sighed. “My humiliation is entertainment to them.”

He closed his book and put it aside. “Come, let’s put these out in the sun,” he said, picking up her soggy clothes as he rose to his feet. “They’ll be dry before you know it.”

Filanna felt herself melt a little on the inside as she watched him walk over to a sunny spot and spread out her clothes on the grass with great care. The more she got to know this gentle, chivalrous side of him, the more it bewildered her that she had ever been able to dislike him so thoroughly.

“Here,” he said after a few moments of rummaging through his pack, and he handed her the overtunic he had worn during the first part of the walk. “If you like, you can wear this for the time being. It may not be ideal, but…”

“Anything is better than this.” She gave him a wobbly smile, accepting the tunic gratefully. “I am not usually this bothersome, Haldir. I don’t know what is wrong with me today, but it is fortunate that you are better prepared than I.”

He smiled back at her. “I have a little experience with the hazards of the great outdoors. I thought you did, too.”

“I do, but…” She touched her sunburnt nose absent-mindedly. “The hazards of Mirkwood are a little different from Lórien’s.”

“True enough.” He then turned away discreetly to give her some privacy, picking up his book again and continuing to read with his back turned to her.

His tunic was, unsurprisingly, much too large for her, especially around the shoulders and the neck, but at least it covered more of her than the towel had done. Once she had dried her hair, she gladly disposed of the towel, spreading the cloth out to dry in the grass along with her clothes. She then rejoined Haldir, sitting down cross-legged in front of him.

“What are you reading?” she asked as she flicked her hair over one shoulder and began combing it with her fingers.

He held up the book to show her the front cover. In gold embossed lettering it said, _Lothlórien - A Short History In Songs And Poems_. “Rúmil lent it to me,” he clarified. “He is the poetry adept of the family. I don’t really have the head for it, but he insisted that I give it a try.”

“You don’t like poetry?”

“It isn’t a matter of like or dislike,” he said. “I enjoy it well enough now and then, but I prefer to spend my scarce reading time on more useful matters.”

“Oh?” She grimaced slightly when she encountered a stubborn tangle and set to combing it out. “And what qualifies as useful literature, in your opinion?”

He gave a small shrug. “History. Biology. I’ve read just about every book ever written about weaponry and warfare.” He paused when he saw her face. “Does that surprise you?”

She smiled, shaking her head. “No, it doesn’t surprise me at all. It actually ties in quite seamlessly with what little I already know about you.”

He held her gaze for a few moments. “Elaborate, if you will.”

“Well...” She felt the fabric of his tunic slide down her right shoulder, and distractedly moved to readjust it. “You are grounded, practical, as any good captain should be. Gilgador, the commanding officer of our troops in Mirkwood, is exactly the same way. He doesn’t walk with his head in the clouds, and he takes his responsibility very seriously; a little too seriously even, according to some, but that is what makes him so good at what he does. There are no grey areas when the lives of so many depend on your knowledge, and on the decisions you make every day. So yes, I can understand that you want to be well-informed, that you seek certainty in facts and figures and that poetry gets left behind.” She hesitated when she saw his bewildered expression. “Am I… er… am I making any sense at all?”

“Yes… Yes, you are. I just never thought of it like that, myself.” He lapsed into thought and there was a long silence. Finally he said, “Do you think, then, that I am Marchwarden first, Haldir second? My brothers have told me something to that effect on many occasions; they feel I should learn to unwind more, let my guard down.” He paused. “Is that how the people perceive me, as a face and a title and not much else?”

“I… I don’t know.” She was a little taken aback by the serious turn the conversation had suddenly taken. “I am hardly an expert on what the Galadhrim think, Haldir.”

“Indulge me.” He gave a small smile. “I would really like to hear your opinion.”

“Well, I…” She sighed and gave the matter a moment’s thought. “When I hear you being mentioned, it is usually in reference to your rank and position. But frankly, it would surprise me if it were different. It is because of your title that people know your name, even if they don’t know you personally.” She paused. “Speaking as someone who has met you only recently, though, I do think that the Haldir the outside world sees doesn’t necessarily reflect who you really are on the inside. One doesn’t get to know you easily, and you can come across as very intimidating; that at least is my experience.”

There was a silence, and when Filanna looked up, she found that Haldir’s eyes had moved away from her face. He looked so absent that she doubted he had been listening to her at all, but when she moved to see what his gaze was directed at, his glassy eyes snapped abruptly back into focus.

“Forgive me,” he said, although the smile he gave her was anything but apologetic. “I find the sight of your shoulder very distracting.”

She blushed and adjusted the neckline of his tunic a second time. “What, you spot one bare shoulder and promptly lose the ability to carry on an intelligent conversation?”

His grin widened. “Would you like me to answer that truthfully, or diplomatically?”

Not so very long ago, interactions like these would have made her feel deeply uncomfortable, but it seemed that the more time she spent around him, the more she grew accustomed to his flirty remarks. What was more, lately she even found herself inclined to flirt right back. And why not? It was beyond any doubt that he liked to tease, and he was straightforward to the point of being blunt at times, but at the end of the day, those were just words. In his deeds, he was nothing if not considerate and attentive, and his most redeeming quality was that he could always make her smile, even in moments of misery. His sense of humor rarely failed to save an uncomfortable situation.

“Never mind,” she said. “You wouldn’t happen to have a safety pin in that pack of yours, would you?”

“Alas, no.”

She fiddled with the collar some more before giving up. He had already seen more of her today than she had planned, so what difference would one exposed shoulder make? She tried looking him up and down without being too obvious about it, familiarizing herself with the shape and placement of his upper body muscles. “How tall are you, Haldir?”

He arched one eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

“I ask because I’m curious,” she said, adding with a little smile, “I want to know things about you, Haldir, so you might as well get used to it."

He looked amused. “I’m something around 6’6”, to the best of my knowledge.”

“You’re not even sure?”

“I’m sure enough.” He smiled. “It’s been a while since my mother made me stand against the wall next to a measuring tape, Filanna.”

“Of course… I understand that.” The fact that he mentioned his mother surprised her; she could not recollect having heard him do so before. “I’m 5’11”, by the way.”

He nodded. “That’s what I guessed. You are a little taller than your sisters, aren’t you?”

Filanna sat up slightly, her instincts abruptly on alert. “How do you know my sisters?”

She did not like the sudden edge in her voice at all, and he seemed surprised by it, too. “They have visited Lórien in the past, haven’t they? And I have passed through your father’s realm several times.”

“Did you meet them then?” she persisted. “Talk to them?”

He exhaled audibly and looked up as if trying to remember. “I think I exchanged a few words with at least one of them… with Ameria, if I recall correctly.”

“Ameria?” It was the name she had least wanted to hear. “Why, what did she say to you?”

“Valar, that I really can’t remember. Nothing of consequence, probably.” He frowned slightly. “Filanna, why the interrogation?”

“I…” She bit her lip. “I don’t rightly know.”

“I think you do.”

“No, I…” She blushed and shook her head. “Never mind. Just leave it be.”

“It’s too late for that.” He leaned in a little closer, his eyes holding hers captive. “Let me inside that head of yours, Filanna. Just tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t even know what I’m thinking,” she shot back, a little more loudly than planned. “Just… please, forget I said anything.”

He sat back and sighed, and for some reason she got the impression that she had disappointed him somehow. “Filanna, if it’s because you are jealous-”

“I’m not jealous!” she said shrilly. “Why would I be?”

He smiled slightly. “Indeed, why be jealous over a conversation I had with your sister many centuries ago, a conversation I can’t even remember the details of?”

In the silence that followed, she tried desperately to get her scattered emotions back in line. Ameria was the worst flirt of all; seducing ellyn was about all she ever thought about, and she was good at it, too. “Haldir, please,” she said softly, avoiding his gaze. “I need to know-”

“I never bedded your sister, Filanna. Neither Ameria nor the other two.” He said it matter-of-factly, with a touch of impatience that made her cringe. “Strictly I am under no obligation to tell you this, because it is none of your business, but-”

“Of course it is my business!” she cut in. “Ameria is my sister, and you are… uhm… you are…”

“Yes?” His interest instantly piqued, he cocked his head to the side, giving her a smile that was half expectant, half challenging. “What am I?”

She groaned softly, acknowledging that she had been backed into a corner. “Fine, Haldir. You were right, I suppose I was jealous. And before you say anything, I know I have absolutely no right to be.”

“Good, because jealousy is something I neither encourage nor condone.” His words were contrasted sharply by his facial expression, which was strangely triumphant. She could not understand why her petty jealousy was so amusing to him, but she knew better than to ask.

“Forgive me for prying,” she said. “I just assumed… Well, I know my sister all too well. She has a weakness for warriors, officers especially. She must at least have made her interest known to you, and Ameria isn’t the type of female whom ellyn reject. She knows the art of seduction-- and she is the most beautiful of us four.”

“That is open for debate,” he said. “Is it so difficult for you to believe that I am not in the habit of bedding every willing female that crosses my path, beautiful though they may be? Because I had hoped that you knew me better than that, Filanna.”

“No… I mean, I can believe that,” she said softly, humbled by his sincerity. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be so quick to make assumptions. I do love Ameria, even though we have our differences. But the thought that you and she-” She cleared her throat. “Well, enough on that subject. Let’s speak of something else.”

“Indeed.” He put aside the book and leaned back against the tree, stretching out his legs and crossing his arms. “What other personal information do you require me to share? My favourite flower, perchance? Or perhaps I could interest you in the size of my boot.” He grinned. “I keep no secrets from you, princess.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, Haldir, you are teasing me again! That is very bad of you, very bad indeed. Why don’t you ask me a question this time, then? Let’s see if you can do better.”

“Very well.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Let’s see, a question… Ah, I know. Tell me something about how you spend your days in Mirkwood. I have hardly any idea of what your life was like prior to coming here.”

She shrugged. “It is quickly told. Mornings are for study, and after lunch I usually try to spend some time riding or shooting, but I don’t manage it every day. My sisters spend their afternoons mostly stuck in a room, reading or embroidering, and it is expected of me that I regularly join them.” She made a face. “Ada takes pity on me sometimes. If his agenda allows for it, he’ll call me to his study and give me things to do, letters that need copying and such. Sometimes I help him writing a speech or sorting his papers.” With a smile, she went on, “It isn’t ideal, but it is more useful than embroidery at least. And Ada is pleasant company. I can be myself around him, while the same cannot always be said of my dear sisters.”

“And the evenings?”

“In the evenings we all dine together. Naneth insists on that. After dinner we usually sit together for another hour or so. Dineth plays the harpsichord very well, and my brothers and I often play at cards. It can get rather boisterous and competitive, especially when Ada joins.”

He smiled. “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.”

“It isn’t,” she agreed with a sigh. “There are some aspects of courtly life I could easily do without, but I do miss those evenings.”

There was a brief silence as Filanna lapsed into melancholy thought. Speaking of her family made her miss them, and yet the thought of going back to her old life filled her with dread. It made her feel so very conflicted, because did she not have a family of sorts here in Lórien as well? Inis and Gwenél, Drauglan, Orophin and the other ellith-- how it would grieve her to leave them behind! And as for Haldir… the mere thought of not having him in her life anymore gave her a heavy feeling in her chest.

“How good a card player are you?” Haldir’s voice roused her from reverie. “I may have to recruit you to be on my team next time I play with my brothers. They are the most incorrigible cheats you’ll ever encounter, and they need to be taught a lesson.”

She laughed, grateful that he made an effort do guide her thoughts down a different path. “I’m a decent player, and I would be happy to join you, if the other two have no objections. I don’t want to interfere in any male bonding rituals.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said with a snort. “If anything, I think some feminine influence would be very beneficial. All that time spent at the fences tends to make one forget proper manners.”

“Your manners seem fine to me.”

He grinned, his eyes meeting hers. “Evidently, I wasn’t talking about myself.”

She chuckled and said, “I do so enjoy watching the three of you interact. The rivalry, the teasing, the camaraderie… It reminds me of my own brothers. They do not always see eye to eye, but at the end of the day, they would brave the fires of Mordor for one another. I am sure you feel the same way about Orophin and Rúmil.”

“I feel that way about all of my wardens, when we are out on patrol,” he said. “But indeed, being the eldest does come with a certain sense of responsibility, all the more so because our father lost his life in battle when Orophin was barely of age.” He paused. “I assume that you knew this already.”

“Yes, I knew.” Filanna hesitated briefly. Something told her that Haldir would not be quite as nonchalant about the sad family history as Orophin had been. “Orophin mentioned it, although he didn’t share the specifics with me. I am truly sorry, Haldir.”

He shifted slightly, crossing his arms again as he allowed a few moments to pass by in silence. “Would you like to hear them? The specifics, that is.” His lips curved to form the smallest of smiles. “As I said, I keep no secrets from you."

“Oh. Well, it… depends.” She went on quickly, “That is, I would like to hear it, of course, but it doesn’t have to be now. And if you would rather not speak of it at all, I would understand that.”

“Hmm.” He rubbed his chin, as she often saw him do when he was pondering something. “We’ll save it for another time, then. On a beautiful day like this, the ghosts of the past are better left in peace.”

She nodded in agreement. “It truly is beautiful here, Haldir. Thank you for letting me come with you. I appreciate it very much.”

“Solitude can be good, but company is often better.” He smiled at her in that particular way that made her heart do a giddy little trot inside her chest. “I am glad that you like it, Filanna.”

She stretched out on the grass as before, making sure that his tunic continued to cover her in the right places. “I almost wish that we didn’t have to go back in a few hours. It must be nice to camp out here.”

“Technically, we could do that,” he said. “Every flet in Lórien holds a supply of blankets, and there is one not far from here. We might even find hammocks there.”

Her eyes sought his, but he did not meet her gaze. The thought of spending the night out here – with him – sent her stomach in a whirl of excitement, and she was sorely tempted, but… “I can’t,” she said, regret plain in her voice. “Felegron expects me back at the stables first thing tomorrow. It wouldn’t go over very well if I didn’t turn up.” After a moment’s pause she added hopefully, “Next time, perhaps.”

This last remark felt rather impertinent. After all, they had not even agreed yet that today’s outing would be repeated, and the last thing she wanted was to appear too eager, or to force her company onto him against his will. But Haldir merely nodded, his lips betraying a smile that held a subtle promise. “Next time, indeed.”

xxx

The return journey to Caras Galadhon seemed to go by faster than the morning hike had, but Filanna felt relieved all the same when the lights of the city came into view, beckoning them both home. It was late, the sun had gone down long before they reached the perimeter of the city, and she craved the soft, comfortable embrace of her bed. At the same time, she thought of how nice it would have been to camp out tonight, out there by the lake. She would gladly have slept on the forest floor to have that experience, and she was a little disappointed that she’d had to decline Haldir’s offer, but that didn’t change the fact that the day had been a success in spite of all the little mishaps. She had enjoyed herself immensely, and was sure that he felt the same way.

Their parting was, in conformity with the day’s activities, amicable, and although Filanna had half a heart to ask him when she would see him again, she simply wished him a good night instead. He replied in kind, his eyes lingering on hers a moment longer than was necessary, and although she knew that he wasn’t going to kiss her – after all, he had been the very picture of restraint and gallantry all day – the thought seemed to briefly cross his mind at least. When he simply nodded farewell and turned to leave, she did not know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

Despite her fatigue, Filanna did not set out for her talan directly but made a small detour that led her past the city stables, with the intention of spending a few minutes with her horse before retiring for the night. She found Mithrenfin in his stall, surprisingly sedate, chewing his evening hay. He did come forward to greet her, however, and she opened his stall door and went inside to indulge him with a little petting.

“Had a few turns around the paddock today, didn’t you?” she said as she scratched his forehead affectionately. “You’re so nice and calm tonight. Or is it your old friend next door who has that effect on you?” She glanced at Gaeralagos, Legolas’s dark bay, who had been given the stall adjacent to Mithrenfin’s. The two were distant cousins, foaled in the same year, but the similarities ended there. Gaeralagos – nicknamed Patch for the distinctive white marking on his forehead – was as docile and sweet-tempered as Mithrenfin was rambunctious.

“What do you want?” she said when Mithrenfin started sniffing her clothes. “Do you want snacks? I don’t have anything on me. Although…” She opened her pack and went through it, finding an apple Haldir had given her from his own supply earlier that day. “Why don’t we share this amongst ourselves? You too, Patch; I’ll save the core, your favourite part.” She bit off a large piece and offered it to Mithrenfin on her outstretched palm.

“Filanna, I thought you weren’t working today.”

She turned around to see Hisael, one of the other stable hands, walking by with a buckskin mare who was hanging her head and obviously not feeling well.

“I’m not,” she said. “I’ve been away, and I wanted a few minutes with these two before going to bed. What’s wrong with her?”

“Colic,” Hisael said. “Not the worst case I’ve ever seen, but still pretty unpleasant. I’m just walking her around to distract her until the healer arrives.”

“Poor thing.” Filanna eyed the mare with concern. Colic was a condition the stable staff had to be on the lookout for at all times, for it was extremely painful and even the healthiest horse could die from it. Sadly, it was also one of the most common afflictions.

“Well, I have to keep her moving,” Hisael said. “I’ll probably see you tomorrow, then?”

Filanna nodded. “Until tomorrow, Hisael.”

When there was nothing left of the apple but the core, she gave that to Gaeralagos, scratching his favourite spots for a few minutes before shouldering her pack and closing the stall door behind her. Further down the corridor, a small crowd had formed around Hisael and the mare-- Felegron was there, along with several stable hands, and she saw that the healer had also arrived.

“What’s going on there?”

The voice was unfamiliar to her, but when she turned around to see who had spoken, she found the stable farrier standing nearby. She had seen him at work several times, however they had never been formally introduced. He was not unattractive, but he didn’t have the friendliest of faces, and she couldn’t remember ever having seen him smile. “A mare with colic,” she said.

She was surprised when he responded by swearing under his breath, and she suddenly remembered his name: Glamion.

“I’m Filanna,” she offered when he remained silent.

“I know who you are.” He glanced at Mithrenfin’s stall. “That horse of yours has the temperament of a Balrog. I trimmed his hooves last week and he didn’t make it an easy time for me.”

She chuckled. “He was testing you. He likes doing that with his tenders, especially when they’re new. Once he realizes you’re not intimidated by him, he’ll let you handle him without trouble. Given time, I’m sure you’ll get along together.”

“You seem confident that the both of you will be around for a while.”

The hostility in his voice caught her off-guard. Why would someone she had never met speak to her in such a tone? Suddenly she no longer had any desire for this conversation to continue.

“Well… goodnight.” She made to walk past him, towards the exit, but found her path unexpectedly blocked.

“Not so fast.” He was looming close, his fingers tilting her face up to his. His eyes were dark grey, black almost, and they were scanning her face as though looking for something. “I don’t understand,” he murmured, the furrow between his brows deepening. “An average beauty at best… What is it that has those wardens swooning over you?”

“What?” He was much too close for comfort, but she was too stunned to pull away. “What in Varda’s name are you talking about?”

The corners of his mouth curled, but it wasn’t so much a smile as it was a grimace. His eyes seemed to mock her, and she involuntarily flinched away from them.

“And still untried.” He cocked his head, his tone betraying wonder. “I am surprised. What is that fool Haldir waiting for?”

“Do not call him a fool.” She felt her temper flare in response to his taunts and unwanted physical proximity. “And let go of me, please.”

“I’ll call him whatever I want.” He ignored her last remark, dragging his thumb along her bottom lip. “Has he not even tried to get a taste of these-?”

Her hand moved on its own accord, surprising her just as much as it did him. It was a wild swing, and her fist didn’t land quite right, half on his nose and half on his cheekbone, but there was enough power behind it to make him curse in pain. Violence was not something she had been taught to use, and she didn’t exactly feel proud of herself as she cradled her sore knuckles in her other hand, but the shocked look in his eyes did give her a strange feeling of satisfaction.

“I resent this,” she said, with a remarkably steady voice that didn’t quite sound like her own. “I am a lord’s daughter, not some weak creature for you to toy with or manipulate. Don’t ever try to touch me again.”

“Don’t worry, Your Highness.” He spoke with disdain, slowly backing away from her. “Ellith like you stir no interest in me whatsoever, and I know better than to waste my time on one of the Marchwarden’s hand-me-downs.”

“Filanna!”

Felegron approached at a trot, frowning at Glamion, who had turned on his heel and was marching towards the exit. “What is going on? Was he giving you any trouble?”

“No, not really.” She still felt surprisingly calm, too calm almost for someone who had just punched a much stronger elf who could probably snap her like a twig if he set his mind to it. “I don’t know what he was playing at, but in any case, I think I dissuaded him from trying it a second time.”

“I’d say you did.” Felegron shook his head, giving her a half smile. “All the same, be careful around him. Glamion makes enemies more easily than he does friends, but there isn’t a better farrier in all of Lórien. The horses respond well to him, and that is good enough for me.”

Filanna nodded. “I’ve seen him work. He is very capable.”

Felegron glanced at the stables’ main entrance, through which Glamion had disappeared. “I have to stay here with that mare, but shall I find someone to walk you home?”

“I really don’t think that’s necessary, Felegron. Thank you, but I’ll be heading home now.” She sighed. “It’s been a tiring day.”

“Yes, now that you mention it…” He looked her up and down pointedly. “What on Eru’s green earth happened to your clothes? Did you spend your day off rolling around in the dirt?”

She didn’t have to look at herself to know what he meant. Her tunic had dried up rather rumpled, and unfortunately, the unplanned soak in the lake had done little to erase the smudges and stains that bore silent witness to the day’s activities.

“Well, actually…” She started laughing. “That is not too far from the truth at all.”


	18. A Female Perspective

Laundering was without a doubt Bereth’s least favourite chore. She tended to avoid it as long as she could, often going through almost her entire supply of clean clothes before grudgingly heading out to the washing pool. Today was no exception, but her spirits lifted when she arrived at the pool and saw that Inis was also there. A friend’s company offered distraction and made time go by faster, and although Bereth considered Inis to be one of her best friends, they hadn’t spoken in a while. After her last conversation with Filanna, which had ended on such an unpleasant note, Bereth had purposely taken some distance. She knew that her very presence made Filanna uncomfortable – she also knew why – but given time, the princess would hopefully stop thinking of her as a threat.

“Bereth, good day.” Inis wiped her forehead with a hand that looked wrinkled and red. “How goes it?”

“I can’t complain.” Bereth knelt down next to her friend, taking washboard and soap as well as the first dress from the top of the pile. “Although you know how I feel about laundry day. Have you been here long?”

“Long enough.” Inis held up one of her son’s small tunics for critical surveillance. “You wouldn’t believe the stains Drauglan gets on his clothes. He’ll go out the door prim and proper, and return a few hours later looking like a little bandit, covered in dirt and with twigs in his hair.”

Bereth smiled. “Sons will keep their mothers busy like that. My brothers were no different in their youth.”

“I’ll bet they weren’t.” Inis snorted and shook her head. “Ellyn-- handfuls, all of them, even when they are but three feet tall and can barely spell their own name.”

“I have to respectfully disagree.” Bereth chuckled. “Males have their peculiarities, that is true, but we cannot help but love them all the same. If you were to wake up one morning and find that they had all disappeared overnight, you would be sorry they were gone.”

The thought made Inis giggle. “Valar forbid! That would be troubling indeed. One can only imagine how our dear Aelwen would react to such a calamity.”

Bereth pulled her dress from the water and began wringing it out. “Speaking of ellyn, the Prince of Mirkwood seems to think very kindly of you.”

There was an almost unnoticeable pause in Inis’s movements. “You noticed that, as well?”

“I am your friend,” Bereth offered by way of explanation. “I don’t think it is common knowledge yet, but it will be unless the young lord learns to disguise his feelings in public. His entire face lights up when you walk into view.”

Inis shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “Legolas is very amiable, but his amorous arrows are better aimed elsewhere. I am sure there are plenty of ellith, like Aelwen, who would be more than willing to keep him entertained during his sojourn in the Golden Wood.”

“And Aelwen has used every available opportunity to make that very clear to him,” Bereth said with a smirk. “But so far her aggressive tactics don’t seem to have any effect. Perhaps his tastes are a little more delicate.”

“He knows my situation, Bereth.” Inis shook her head. “I have my son to consider. Drauglan and I are content with the way things are.”

“Content?” With a frown, Bereth turned to face her friend more fully. “Inis, dearest, do you know how dreadfully hollow that word sounds, coming from someone who deserves to be nothing less than ecstatically happy?”

Inis smiled. “And you think that a romance with Legolas is the way to achieve that?”

Bereth sighed, not surprised that Inis reacted this way. “No one is expecting you to find a replacement for your husband, meldis, but these past decades you have kept such a tight leash on yourself. Everything you do is for your son, and as commendable as that is, I would wish for you to think a little more of yourself now and then. Life has so many sweet fruits to offer, and you are leaving them all unplucked.”

Inis sat back and sighed, resting her work-worn hands in her lap. “I do miss it, Bereth,” she admitted after a moment or two. “I miss having a partner, and intimacy. I suppose I just don’t allow myself to dwell on it too much. You know there are some who believe that we can only love once in our lives; what if I start looking around and discover that they are right?”

“Well, you won’t know unless you try.” Bereth reached for her friend’s shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. “Think on it, at least, even if you are afraid. Maenion was tragically taken from you, and your heart may never be completely whole again, but you are alive. There is no shame in allowing yourself to feel that.”

“I don’t know, Bereth,” Inis said slowly. “I don’t know if I am ready, but I will remember your words and think on them. I cannot promise you more than that.”

The two ellith did their work perfunctorily, chatting amicably as their hands continuously repeated the cycle of scrubbing, rinsing and wringing. They did not keep track of time, but Bereth was only halfway through her load when another elleth carrying a laundry basket appeared at the scene. Inis, who spotted Filanna first, pointed her out to Bereth and waved. Filanna hesitated briefly when her gaze crossed Bereth’s, and then came over to where they sat.

“Good afternoon to you both,” she said, her manner slightly awkward. “May I join you?”

If Inis noticed the tension between the other two at all, she gave no sign of it. “Of course you may,” she said with a laugh. “The more, the merrier, nay?”

Filanna sank down to her knees next to Bereth, rolling up her sleeves in preparation. She kept her eyes downcast as she said, “I owe you an apology, Bereth.”

Bereth was surprised. She had not expected Filanna to even mention their last conversation, let alone apologize. “It’s quite all right, Filanna.”

“No, it isn’t. I regret the way things ended between us the last time. I was horrible to you that day, and if I could take back the unkind things I said, I certainly would. Please, accept my apology. I… I sincerely hope that we can be friends again from here on out.”

“I appreciate that,” Bereth said kindly, touched by Filanna’s heartfelt remorse. “I apologize for my part in it, as well. And I would very much like to be your friend, if you’ll let me.”

Filanna nodded, busying herself with her washboard. “You were right, I think,” she confessed quietly. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but you were right with what you said about... you know.”

Bereth glanced at Inis, who was very diplomatically pretending not to hear a word. That elleth was the very soul of discretion, in any case, and could be trusted with a secret or two.

“My instincts are usually pretty good.” Bereth tried to gauge Filanna’s reactions, afraid to say more than she should. Haldir had ended their physical relationship weeks ago, but did Filanna know this? She could only know if Haldir had told her about it himself, which Bereth somehow doubted. On the other hand, it would certainly explain Filanna’s attempt at reconciliation.

As she was studying the younger elleth like this, Bereth began to understand what it was about her that had Haldir so enthralled. Filanna’s shyness and tendency to make herself invisible in crowds made it easy for anyone to overlook her, but her features and her eyes were undeniably pretty, and when she smiled, her face lit up in a way Bereth felt sure would stop any male dead in their tracks. The fact that Haldir had noticed it first did not surprise Bereth in the least.

“I hear that you and Haldir have been spending a little more time together recently,” she said. “That is very good. I don’t know what has happened between the two of you in the past, but I do know that Haldir will do all that he can to make it right. He deserves a second chance.”

“I consider myself to be the one who has been given a second chance,” Filanna said earnestly. “The misunderstandings between us were almost entirely my fault, but I am trying to do better, and our relationship has much improved, I think.”

“Good.” Bereth gave her a warm smile. “I’m glad to hear that.”

There was a brief, but awkward lull in the conversation as the two ellith regarded each other somewhat sheepishly, but Inis was quick to jump in and save the situation by smoothly changing the subject.

Later, after the friends had gone their separate ways, Bereth mulled over the conversation with Filanna on her way home. The shortest route to her talan led almost directly past the Great Hall, and as she was passing by she recognized one of the sentinels standing guard at the entrance. Curuvir was a strapping ellon with a cheerful disposition who had been flirting with her for years. She didn’t mind his attentions – in fact, she had always quite enjoyed them – but for some reason, nothing had ever come of it. However, with Haldir now out of the picture, it might be a possibility worth exploring.

Curuvir had spotted her as well and winked as their gazes crossed, almost as if he were reading her thoughts. She knew better than to go and flirt with an ellon while he was on duty, but she did acknowledge him with a smile as she walked by, putting a little more encouragement into it than she usually did. She had barely had time to register the spark of interest in his eyes when the door to the Great Hall suddenly opened and none other than Haldir stepped out, his appearance prompting the two sentinels to immediately stand to attention and salute.

There were those who found Haldir’s persona intimidating. Some were even under the mistaken impression that he was cocky and arrogant, and Bereth sometimes wished that they could see him the way she did. She had never imagined her role in Haldir’s life to be more important than it actually was, but she had known him for a long time, and she had observed him closely enough to realize that she was in fact one of the select few in whose company Haldir let his guard down. She knew the subtle inflections of his voice, the expressions of his face, and as she saw him exiting the Great Hall, her first impression was that he seemed distracted, his brows drawn together in a contemplative furrow. Then he saw her, and she noticed that he hesitated briefly before motioning at her to wait for him. She put her laundry basket down, secretly wishing that he had chosen a different time and place to accost her. There weren’t many disadvantages to being the Marchwarden’s lover, but one thing she had noticed was that it tended to discourage other males from approaching her-- and they were still in Curuvir’s line of sight.

“Good day, Bereth,” Haldir greeted as he came up the steps to join her. “Have you seen Filanna, by any chance? I need to speak with her, but she is neither at the stables nor in her talan.”

“I spent the last hour at the washing pool with her,” Bereth replied. “She didn’t tell me explicitly where she was going afterwards, but I assume she is on her way home to hang her laundry out to dry, like I am.”

He nodded his thanks, his body language betraying a slight unease as he stood before her. For a moment he didn’t seem sure what to say next, which was unusual for him. “How… er… how have you been, Bereth?”

“I’ve been well, thank you.” She smiled, both surprised and a little amused to see him so uncomfortable, and she decided to quickly clear the air. “Haldir, be at ease, I beg of you. There need not be any awkwardness between us. You and I had an arrangement, one that served us both well for a while, but it has run its course. That doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends, does it?”

“I don’t hope so,” he said sincerely. “I would hate to lose you as a friend, Bereth.”

“Allow me to give you some counsel then, as a friend.” She looked around, making sure they weren’t being overheard before she continued in a quieter tone. “Filanna doesn’t know yet, does she? You haven’t told her that you and I are no longer… intimate.”

“No, I haven’t,” he said, and from the look on his face it was clear that the point of the conversation was eluding him as of yet.

She sighed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Ellyn could be so clueless sometimes! “Well, don’t you think this is something she ought to know? You are openly pursuing a courtship with her, and yet in her mind you are still bedding other females. That might not be a problem in some cases, but Filanna isn’t the type to share.”

He did not refute her words. “I know she isn’t.”

“She must know, Haldir. And she must hear it from you, before she finds out some other way.” She touched his arm. “I want to be her friend, but there will always be awkwardness between us as long as she thinks of me as a rival.”

He nodded faintly, looking so torn that she almost felt sorry for him. In these past few months he had been slowly chipping away at the self-imposed rules and discipline that had defined him for such a long time, and it was clear that he struggled with these changes. Bereth understood that struggle, but at the same time, she was glad that he had finally met an elleth who challenged him and made him rethink decisions he had made a long time ago. She knew that he had a passionate side to him – she had seen glimpses of it – and it would be interesting to see that passion unleashed for a change.

They said their goodbyes, but he had not gone ten steps when she called his name, eyeing him affectionately as he turned around to face her once more. She had tried it before, staying friendly with former lovers, but she had learned through experience that it was often easier, and less painful, to avoid them instead. With Haldir, she knew it would be different. They had always had a good understanding, and although she cared about him deeply, she had never been in love with him. And she suspected that this was the very reason why he had taken her as a lover in the first place.

“Answer me this one question, Haldir,” she said, for once unable to suppress her curiosity. “Have you ever told an elleth that you loved her?”

He smiled, looking away momentarily as though he was in fact counting the number of times he had allowed those very words to escape him. “Once or twice,” he finally said, turning to continue his way down the stair. “In the folly of youth.”

xxx

It had been a gradual process, but over the course of several months Filanna’s talan had truly become a home away from home. Initially, making the place her own had presented a challenge, because she could fit all her personal belongings in one pack, but with her friends’ help, the interior had been slowly transformed to fit her taste. Inis had made curtains from a fabric Filanna had hand-picked at the market, and Mereniel had given her several cuttings from her own plants. The part of the house she probably saw the least of was the kitchen-- the stove was gathering dust, and most pots and pans hadn’t left the cupboards since the day she moved in. She usually dined with Gwenél, who cooked very well and was happy to do something in return for the archery lessons. It was the perfect arrangement in Filanna’s eyes; the evening meal had been a family event for as long as she could remember, and she never felt more alone than when she had to dine all by herself.

One of the things Filanna had come to appreciate most about her new home was the balcony, on laundry day even more so than on other days. Although it wasn’t very large, it was equipped with a pulley clothesline that made it possible to dry large amounts of laundry at once, and she was almost halfway through today’s load when she heard, faintly, knocking on the front door. She was not expecting any visitors, but assuming it to be one of her friends or her brother, she called out for them to enter. She heard the front door opening and closing, followed by the sound of footfalls, too heavy to be a female’s. “Legolas, is that you?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but it is only I.” Not her brother, but Haldir appeared in the doorway, looking ridiculously attractive in a snug, dark brown tunic she had not seen on him before. She was completely unprepared for this sudden appearance, and blushed when she realized that she was all but eating him up with her eyes.

“It is not a disappointment at all. I am glad to see you.” The smile she gave him to reinforce the sentiment faltered a little when she noticed how severe he looked. “What is the matter? You do not look happy, Haldir.”

He crossed his arms, leaning one shoulder against the doorpost. “I apologize for storming in like this, but there is a very disconcerting rumour going around about a confrontation you supposedly had with Glamion a few days ago. Is it true?”

She froze momentarily, horrified to learn that that unpalatable story had reached his ears. “Oh, that,” she said evasively, reaching into the basket and picking up the next piece of clothing. “Yes, it is true. It wasn’t an altogether pleasant experience, one that I would rather put out of my mind. Do we have to talk about this?”

“It is imperative that we do.” He looked grim. “Tell me what happened, Filanna. What did he say to you?”

She gave a shrug. “To tell you the truth, I hardly remember. It all happened so fast, and half of the things he was saying didn’t make sense to me.”

“I don’t believe that.” He stepped across the threshold, his eyes seeing right through her thin layer of pretence. “There is nothing wrong with your memory, Filanna. I’m willing to wager that you remember every single word, and that they affected you more than you want to admit.”

“Haldir, please.” Her plea sounded feeble to her own ears. “It is embarrassing for me to talk about. Why are you so adamant on hearing the ugly details? What good will it do?”

He sighed, taking a moment’s pause before saying in a kinder tone, “I understand why you would rather not talk about it, Filanna, and I do not wish to seem cruel or insensitive by asking you to. My only wish is to make you see that whatever he said to you had nothing to do with you personally. He is only trying to get to Orophin and me through you.”

“Don’t let him succeed, then. It isn’t worth it, Haldir.” She hesitated. “Can you explain to me, though, why there is enmity between you?”

“I can and I will, if you leave the laundry be for a moment and look me in the eye.”

She did as he requested, and even though she knew it wasn’t her he was angry at, she was glad to see that his expression had softened.

“Glamion and Orophin had their eye on the same elleth once,” Haldir said, in the unembellished, matter-of-fact tone she had come to expect from him. “It is the oldest story in the world. The elleth chose Orophin, which Glamion didn’t take very well, and he has been holding a grudge ever since. It is of course Orophin who gets the lion’s share of his resentment, but he dislikes Rúmil and me by association.” He paused, choosing his next words with care. “Last month, Orophin and Glamion crossed paths by chance, and Glamion tried to provoke my brother by bad-mouthing you. Orophin, I regret to say, took the bait, and there might have been fisticuffs had not some bystanders and I intervened.”

“Dear Eru.” Horrified, Filanna brought her hand to her mouth. “Why did I not know this?”

“Orophin thought it should be kept from you, as he feared it might hurt your feelings. I agreed at the time, but I realize now that it was the wrong decision. Glamion caught you unawares, and that should never have been allowed to happen.” Haldir frowned, his jaw set in a hard line. “I made the mistake of not realizing that he is a farrier as well as a blacksmith, and that he frequents the stables like you do. I should have thought of that and warned you about him.”

“I don’t think it would have made much difference, Haldir,” she told him, both touched and a little unsettled by his fierce self-critique. “You are too hard on yourself. Glamion said a few spiteful things, but he wasn’t out to physically hurt me.”

“That doesn’t make what he did acceptable, Filanna.”

“I know, but…” She touched his arm plaintively. “Please, Haldir, let’s not dwell on it any longer. The situation has already been blown out of proportion more than it warrants, and the sooner people forget about it, the better. And I beg you, do not seek out Glamion. I know you are probably itching to defend my honour, but you really needn’t do that.”

He gave an amused little smile. “Indeed, if I have been correctly informed, you already did a fine job defending your own honour. I can’t say I necessarily approve of the manner in which you chose to do so, but-”

“You heard about that, as well?” She groaned softly. “I… I honestly don’t know what got into me, Haldir. My temper gets me in trouble now and then, but I don’t usually hit people.”

“I know that,” he said, still smiling. “If you did, I reckon I would have been on the receiving end of one of your punches a long time ago.”

“Don’t think I wasn’t tempted once or twice.” She chuckled in spite of herself. “But in all seriousness, Haldir, I do feel bad about the way I handled the situation. I have no desire whatsoever to speak to Glamion ever again, but on the other hand, I feel that I should apologize to him for that punch.”

“I wouldn’t advise that,” he said seriously. “Glamion isn’t likely to treat you any better now that you have made a laughing stock out of him. Most likely he will take your apology and throw it back in your face.”

“Probably so,” she agreed, “but at least I’ll feel better for having tried.”

He studied her for a moment or two. “If you truly feel that way, I won’t try to stop you,” he said eventually. “Just remember what I said, and don’t let him hurt you a second time. Glamion has a knack for finding someone’s weaknesses and using them to his advantage.”

“It seems that he does.” She sighed. “It wasn’t just me he insulted, actually. He said a few spiteful things about you as well, and I think that irked me even more. It makes me so angry when people speak ill of others behind their back. I have no tolerance for that sort of cowardice.”

He smiled. “If it is any consolation, princess, he is more than happy to call me names to my face as well. You can say about Glamion what you will, but he is not a coward.”

She looked at him, at his calm face and smiling mouth, and shook her head in wonder. “Can’t you teach me to be confident like that, Haldir? If I found out that someone was saying ugly things about me, I wouldn’t sleep for a week, but you are completely unfazed. I aspire to that. I care too much about what others think of me.”

“It comes with age,” he said. “But it would be a mistake to think that I am completely insensitive to such things, Filanna. When you were the one dealing out insults, I cared about that a great deal.”

She grimaced, not sure if she should feel embarrassed or flattered. When the gentle summer breeze picked up a little, catching a strand of her hair and whipping it across her face, she reached up distractedly to brush it aside. “Haldir, may I ask you something personal?”

“Go ahead.”

“Bereth and the others…” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, fully aware that what she was about to say would make her sound like a damn fool. “Are you in love with any of them?”

She forced herself to look into his eyes, but the mockery she feared to see wasn’t there. “No,” he replied, “I am not.”

By all rights, his answer should have reassured her, but it only confused her more. “I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” His eyes urged her to continue, asking her to finish her train of thought this time even if she was embarrassed.

“It just seems to me that…” She trailed off, then finished in one breath, “Isn’t it far more pleasurable and gratifying to share that kind of intimacy with someone you feel very deeply about?”

“Of course it is,” he said. “But the reality is that such a person isn’t always available, while the need for company is a constant for most of us. Sometimes, sex is nothing more than an outlet for our most primitive impulses. I can’t speak for our Mirkwood kindred, but here in Lórien it isn’t uncommon for an unattached elf, male or female, to attend to several lovers.”

He made it sound so sensible, so logical. She knew she had absolutely no right to judge him for the way he lived his life; but try as she might, she could not fully shake the uneasy feeling that came over her every time she pictured him with one of those ellith.

“You are probably right,” she said. “My sisters are quite, shall we say, generous with their affections as well. There is no harm in it. I suppose I’m just struggling with it because my own expectations are so very different. Perhaps I am hopelessly naive, but…”

“You are not naive,” he said. “The matters of the heart are not to be taken lightly, and we all of us have different needs and desires. You shouldn’t try to conform to anyone else’s standards, mine least of all.” There was a pause. “That being said, there is something you need to know.”

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling somewhat apprehensive. “What, Haldir?”

He seemed to hesitate, if only for a moment. “I am not bedding Bereth anymore, nor anyone else for that matter.”

Her first thought was that he must be joking, but he looked completely earnest. She stared at him mutely for a few moments, trying to wrap her head around this unexpected revelation. “Why?”

“Because I have a conscience.” He smiled slightly. “It was a change I had to make sooner or later anyway, if I wanted a chance with you.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.” The implications of what he had just told her were starting to sink in, and she tried not to show how relieved she was. “When did you decide this?”

He shrugged. “Not long after you came to my talan and I kissed you on the stair.”

She processed this for a moment, making the calculations in her head. “That was four weeks ago.”

“Going on five, actually.” He frowned slightly when he saw her reaction. “What are you smiling at, princess?”

“Forgive me.” She didn’t want to react this way, but something in the tone of his voice when he just corrected her made her giggle. “I am sure that five weeks of abstinence are quite an accomplishment in your book, and I truly do appreciate it, but I hope you’re not expecting me to applaud you or wreathe you in flowers.”

He grimaced. “Spoken like a true innocent, milady. Five weeks may not seem like much to you now, but rest assured, once you have had your first experiences, you too will want it constantly.”

Filanna swallowed, her throat suddenly gone a little dry. She’d had some time to think about the very thing he was alluding to, and especially after the day at the lake, her mind wandered in that direction ever more frequently. She wondered what it would be like, how it would feel, what he would say. But at the same time, she worried. She didn’t know the slightest thing about pleasing a male sexually; how was she ever going to satisfy an ellon like Haldir, who was so experienced and had some of the most beautiful females of Caras Galadhon at his beck and call? Valar! If only she had paid more attention when her sisters spoke of these things! She was loath to admit it, but she could actually use their advice and expertise right now.

“Why are you telling me this now?” It came out rather hoarsely, and she cleared her throat before adding, “I have been a horrible friend to Bereth. If I had known this sooner-”

“I know I am at fault for not informing you earlier, and I apologize for that. I suppose I just needed to hear a female’s perspective to realize my mistake.” He gave a mysterious little smile that puzzled her, but before she could ask him what he meant, he changed the subject.

“Now, what is this?” Haldir reached down into the laundry basket, taking her white nightgown from the pile and holding it up by the straps with a grin. “My favourite nightdress makes another appearance.”

She blushed slightly, snatching it from his fingers. “My mother packed that for me, believe it or not. I wanted to bring something more conservative, but she wouldn’t let me.”

“Your mother is a wise, wise woman. I’ll have to remember to give her my thanks.” He drifted closer yet, until their bodies were almost touching, and brought his mouth to the shell of her ear. Even though there was no one near who could possibly overhear them, his voice didn’t rise above a murmur when he said, “I still have visions of you in that towel.”

She shivered involuntarily, the hairs at the back of her neck standing up in response to his words and his nearness. “Well, I’m glad at least one of us enjoyed that.”

His low chuckle sent another thrill through her body, and she held her breath as he raised his hand and very gently touched her hair, his fingers skimming her ear shell and the skin of her neck. It felt wonderful to be touched by him like this, and she wanted more, much more.

“I should probably go,” he said after a few heartbeats, his voice still soft but without the flirtatious undercurrent this time. “My thoughts are straying in dangerous directions, and your nearness doesn’t exactly help. Besides, I have kept you long enough.”

“No, wait.” She sought his eyes, had to take a small step back to find them. “Stay, if you like. I have nothing planned, and… I enjoy having you here. Please, stay, at least for a little while.”

He considered briefly. “All right, I suppose I will.”

“Have a seat, then,” she said. “Would you like something to drink? I can make tea, or lemonade.”

“I have a better idea,” he said. “Why don’t I take care of the refreshments while you finish what I so brutally interrupted? If your laundry doesn’t dry in time, you may not have a gown to sleep in tonight, and I don’t want that pressing down on my conscience.”

Filanna made an involuntary squeaky sound that turned into a giggle. “For shame, Haldir, what a flirt you are. But I do accept your proposition. I trust you’ll find your way around my kitchen?”

After he had gone inside, she made quick work of the remaining laundry, wanting to get the chore over and done with so that she could give Haldir her full attention. Her skin still tingled where he had touched her, as if his fingers had left invisible tracks that were slow to fade. It surprised her that he had been so flirtatious earlier, but she didn’t mind it. As much as she had enjoyed the day at the lake, it had left her with a restless feeling of _wanting_ that didn’t wane with time; it made her happy to know that he still thought about it, as well, and that all her fumbling and silly behaviour hadn’t changed the way he felt about her.

She was almost finished when he returned, carrying a tray with a carafe of lemonade and two glasses. He placed the tray on the only flat surface available, a low table that wasn’t much larger than the tray itself and looked like it had seen better days. It formed a set with a narrow bench that wasn’t in much better shape; it had been there on the day she moved in and she used it regularly, but when Haldir sat down, it suddenly looked disproportionally small in comparison to his tall body. “Perhaps I should fetch you a chair from inside,” he offered, getting ready to rise again.

“No, don’t.” She turned away from the now empty basket and came over to where he sat. “Just move over an inch or two, if you will.”

He regarded her with a smile of surprise as she crammed herself into what little space was left next to him, lifting his arm and placing it behind her back. She wasn’t sure whether he meant it as an invitation, but she decided to interpret it as such, leaning a little closer to fit herself against him.

“Is this too close for comfort?” she asked quietly. “You can tell me if it is.”

“If I had any complaints, princess, you would hear them.”

It was a little strange at first, sitting this close to him, but it didn’t take long for Filanna to relax as they sipped their drinks in comfortable silence. She wasn’t usually this cuddly, but where Haldir was concerned, she was starting to learn to follow her instincts instead of thinking everything through like she was wont to do.

“Haldir, can I ask you something?” she said after a while.

“I already told you that you can ask me anything you want, Filanna. You don’t have to ask for my permission every time.” He gave her a sidelong glance, winking almost imperceptibly. “If a question is too invasive, I can always choose not to answer it.”

She nodded distractedly, staring into her glass of lemonade. “Were you thinking about kissing me just now, when you said your mind was wandering to dangerous places? And the other night, after we returned from our trip?”

“Are these trick questions?” He smiled slightly. “Of course I was thinking about kissing you; I think about that all the time.”

“Then… why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t think it would be appropriate. In spite of what my previous actions may have suggested, I do know how to govern my impulses, even in the face of temptation. I do not want to repeat past mistakes.” There was a brief pause. “I am taking my cues from you, Filanna. If you are ready for the next step, I will gladly follow, but I won’t know when to do that unless you show me a little encouragement.”

She made a face. “I don’t really know how to do that, Haldir. My skills as a seductress are very limited.”

“Don’t worry yourself,” he said, giving a funny little smile. “I am a male; it takes very little to seduce me.”

“Well, I… I’ll do my very best to show encouragement when the situation warrants it.”

“I look forward to it.”

She drew up her legs, wrapping one arm around her knees. “How much longer will you be in the city? I keep losing track of your roster, but surely your next border duty begins soon?”

“I won’t be returning to the fences for a while,” he replied. “The warden selections start on the first day of August, as you probably know, and I’ll be expected to stay in Caras Galadhon for the duration of the event.”

Filanna’s face brightened at this news. “I hadn’t realized. What will your task be?”

He shrugged. “The responsibility of choosing the new recruits lies with me and my peers, so we observe the participants, judge them at the contests, etcetera. We also lay out the treasure hunt with which the event traditionally ends; it is considered by many to be the highlight of the event and can take several days to complete. The contestants compete against each other in small teams, so not only their tracking and survival skills are put to the test, but their team spirit as well. At the fences, where lives often depend on partnership and trust, there is no place for individualists.”

“It sounds exciting,” she said. “Are only males allowed to enter?”

“No, females can try out for warden as well, but few ever do.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “It is not a trade many ellith find appealing, but there _are_ a number of female wardens active, all of whom are very skilled. If you like, I will introduce you to them as soon as I have the chance.”

Filanna nodded thoughtfully, trying to picture herself in a warden’s boots for a moment. Rationally, she didn’t think she would have much trouble adapting to the less than luxurious lifestyle, but the thought of a hostile confrontation and hand-to-hand combat made her nervous. She didn’t have the heart of a warrior, and that was putting it euphemistically; she was a coward, and courage was the first requirement for any aspiring warden.

“The borders won’t be completely unguarded during the event, will they?” she asked.

“No, our realm will be as securely protected as always, don’t you worry.”

“Will Orophin and Rúmil be able to attend?”

“Rúmil will be here for the second week only, I think, but Orophin will return in time for the opening ceremony. He has a rather important ceremonial role to fulfill.”

“What role?” she asked curiously.

Haldir’s hand, which until then had rested idly on the back of the bench, brushed Filanna’s shoulder, perhaps unintentionally. “Does the name Amdir mean anything to you?”

“Of course, he was King of Lórien before Amroth. Died during the War of the Last Alliance.”

“Precisely. His son Amroth brought his sword back with him from the battlefield, after which it became one of our people’s most important relics. It is usually kept in a locked chest in Celeborn’s private quarters, but every five years, it is brought out to play a significant role in the warden selections. At the opening ceremony, it is presented to a chosen warrior whose responsibility will be to guard it for the entirety of the event. On the last day, when the new wardens are sworn in, they pledge their allegiance to that sword.”

“That is Orophin’s task, then? To guard the sword?”

“Indeed it is. He has been waiting for the honour ever since he joined the wardens.” Haldir’s smile showed a rare glint of tenderness as he spoke of his youngest sibling. “He was ecstatic when he received the news. You know how Orophin loves being the centre of attention, and this time he’ll have all of Caras Galadhon as his rapt audience.”

“He’ll quite enjoy that, I’m sure.” She giggled. “Well, I look forward to seeing him again. These long periods of absence are hard to get used to. I do sometimes wonder how the wardens’ wives keep their sanity.”

He gave no reply, and even though she saw him only in profile, she noticed that the expression in his eyes changed slightly, his gaze turning inward. She remembered his earlier comment about wardens who consciously chose not to wed and start a family, and how it had been implied that he had made that same choice. The more Filanna thought about it, the more she felt it was true; Gwenél had even said that she couldn’t remember the last time Haldir had had a meaningful relationship with one particular elleth. As she recalled this, Filanna suddenly felt guilty for having ridiculed him earlier, when he confessed to her the truth about his bed partners. How could she have been so quick to make assumptions, and judge him for the way he tried to live his life? She knew absolutely nothing about these matters, nothing at all.

Observing his face attentively, she reached back for his hand, took it and guided it to her shoulder. His eyes connected with hers, betraying surprise, but he kept his hand where she placed it, his fingers closing gently around her shoulder.

“I’m trying to show encouragement,” she explained.

“And you are doing it very well.”

Slowly and very deliberately, she raised a hand and placed it gently against one side of his face. Her heart was on the verge of hammering its way out of her chest, but she didn’t let that stop her from leaning in and planting a soft, slightly apologetic kiss on his mouth. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“For what?”

“You know what for.” She drew back slightly, avoiding his eyes as she turned her empty glass around in her hands. Feeling a little embarrassed by what she had just done, she swiftly changed the subject. “I was thinking… I might take Mithrenfin out for a ride tomorrow afternoon, after my shift. He needs to stretch his legs, and I miss riding, so it will do the both of us good.” She looked up. “If you have nothing else planned, I would really like for you to join me.”

He smiled, the shadow gone from his eyes as if it had never been there in the first place. “I would like that, as well.”


	19. Back In The Saddle

People who met Inis for the first time were often surprised to discover that she had a much stronger backbone than her modest, soft-spoken nature suggested. It was no coincidence that she was a successful artisan with an outstanding reputation, which she had built for herself through years of hard work and dedication to her craft. At the same time, her practical and unsentimental personality had led some people to believe that she was a cold fish, an epithet that wasn’t entirely accurate but not too far from the truth either. She did not buckle under pressure; in fact, it was often in stressful situations that she gave her best performances. In the night of Drauglan’s birth, while her husband teetered on the edge of a nervous breakdown and the midwife looked more worried with every contraction, Inis had kept a level head, even when it was discovered that her unborn child of nine pounds was in a breech position. For some time, it had been feared that both would lose their lives that night, but against all odds, Inis had successfully birthed a son who turned out to be just as indestructible as she was.

Yes, Inis had experienced the joy of motherhood and family life, but there was also great sorrow in her past. However, she wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity or to dwell on a past she couldn’t change. There was a certain comfort in knowing that she had already passed some of life’s greatest tests, and that she could be brave and strong if the situation required it. She had learned not to worry about petty things and to save her energy for the things that were truly important, which was why Inis felt she shouldn’t possibly be this nervous for something as trivial as an appointment with a client-- even if that client was a charming, foreign prince who made no secret of his regard for her.

Inis pondered the situation with Legolas on her way to his talan. A few days earlier, he had mentioned how impressed he was by what little of her work he had seen, and asked her quite unexpectedly if she could fit him with a new tunic. It was, of course, a rather transparent excuse to spend more time with her, as she found it hard to believe that he even needed a new tunic to begin with, but she had no reason to turn down a commission, and so they had agreed on a time and place for a measuring session.

Now she was having second thoughts, and she wished she had confided in Bereth at the washing pool the day before. She had almost done so, but hesitation had held her back, and the window of opportunity had closed with Filanna’s arrival. Inis was genuinely fond of her, but Filanna was in the first place Legolas’s sister and would not be able to counsel her objectively. It was probably best that she knew as little of Inis’s predicament as possible, at least for now.

Inis sighed. She was never this indecisive, and she found she did not like it at all. She usually knew exactly what had to be done in any given situation, and even in case of doubt, she knew she could depend on her instinct and common sense to guide her in the right direction. Now that her common sense was failing her so unexpectedly, she was at a loss as to what to do. Since her husband’s passing, she had been so immersed in work and the care for her son that she hadn’t had much time to think about anything else, but Bereth’s words had planted a seed in Inis’s mind that was clearly there to stay. Bereth had meant well, no doubt, but her counsel had only made Inis more confused.

If she was honest, one of the reasons why she had never even remotely considered a new lover was that no male had ever shown an interest in wooing her, perhaps out of respect to her late husband. Legolas had no such scruples, and part of her was secretly flattered by his warm attention. She was not the kind of elleth who became weak in the knees the very moment a male took notice of her, but only a woman made of steel would fail to appreciate Legolas’s merits. Even Mereniel had spoken kindly of him, and she was by far the most critical person Inis knew. But while liking Legolas was easy enough, Inis had yet to decide whether she could think of him as a potential lover. And then there was Drauglan to think about. Was it not her task to put his interests above her own, and to make sure he had as normal a childhood as circumstances allowed? She had worked so hard to achieve exactly that. Why put all of that at risk, simply because she sometimes missed the pleasure of male companionship? There would be plenty of time for that once Drauglan was older and had a life of his own.

Her thoughts were still going in circles when she reached Legolas’s talan, much sooner than she would have liked, and she took a deep breath before knocking on the door. It opened almost immediately, revealing a smiling Legolas who, as usual, seemed genuinely delighted to see her. He let her inside, offering her a drink, which she politely declined. No matter what, she would remain professional and give Legolas the exact same treatment as any other client.

She stole a glance about the room as she unpacked her things, coming to the conclusion that he kept his talan relatively tidy in comparison to some other males she knew. The next moment, she realized that he had probably tidied the place in anticipation of her visit. She hoped that this was the case, that he was secretly a slob, as all her attempts at finding fault in him had yielded very few results so far.

“Good, let’s begin,” she said once she was all set up, taking her measuring tape and turning around to face Legolas, who was patiently awaiting her instruction. “You know how this works, I presume? Keep a straight posture, shoulders relaxed, arms alongside your body. I’ll start by sizing your chest circumference.”

She had performed this routine thousands of times, but today she wished there was a way to do this without getting so physically close to him. She slipped her hands underneath his arms to encircle his chest with the measuring tape, asking him to take a deep breath to assess how snug a fit would be required. She repeated the same actions on his waist and neck and then moved away to write down the numbers in her notepad.

“You are so quiet, Inis,” he remarked after she had worked silently for a few minutes. “Is something weighing on your mind?”

“Not at all,” she lied. “Sorry if I seem dull; I can’t afford to make a mistake with these numbers, and talking distracts me.”

He nodded in understanding, but her answer did not discourage him from attempting to strike up a conversation. “When did you decide to become a seamstress?”

She shrugged. “I don’t recall the exact moment, if there ever was one. My mother taught me to sew and embroider when I was young, and designing clothes has been a passion of mine for as long as I can remember. I’ve never considered doing anything else.”

“Do you make all your own and Drauglan’s clothing as well?”

“I try to, but I don’t always manage it. Commissions take most of my time.” She picked up her notepad and checked the numbers one last time, making sure she had all the information she needed. “I strive to finish every commission within three weeks, but I am currently working on several projects so it may take a little longer. If you want, we can schedule a fitting session right now, but I’ll probably be able to make a more accurate estimation in a couple of days.”

“Take your time,” he said. “I’m in no particular hurry.”

“I guess we should discuss the specifics, then.” She opened her portfolio on the table. “Have a look at these swatches and tell me if you see a fabric you like.”

He came over to stand beside her, casting a fleeting glance at the selection of fabrics. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you use the fabric you think would suit me best? I leave the choice entirely to your good taste and judgment.”

Surprised, she looked up into his eyes. She could not recall that anyone, not even the least demanding of clients, had ever said that to her before. “I’m not sure if that is wise, Legolas. Experience has taught me that not many ellyn share my preference for eccentricity. You should at least give me an idea of what colours you like.”

“No, I don’t think so.” He held her gaze, his noble features alight with a beguiling smile. “You are the artist, are you not? Let your creativity run free, surprise me. If you think I look my best in turquoise or lilac, I will wear it.”

She stared at him a few moments longer before bursting out in giggles. His surprised expression only made her laugh harder, and she felt the tension that had been building near her midriff for the past half hour dissipating. It was a great relief.

“I am sorry, Legolas,” she said once she recovered from her laughing fit, wiping her eyes as discreetly as she could. “You are clearly very good at this, and I won’t deny that I am flattered, but this is all quite new to me. I don’t really know how to act.”

“Forgive me,” he said, looking somewhat sheepish. “I didn’t realize… It was not my intent to make you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t apologize.” Inis touched his arm, serious now. “I like you, Legolas, I truly do, but as I said, this is unfamiliar territory for me. I suppose… I’m a little scared. And believe me, that is a rare occurrence.”

He regarded her for a moment or two without speaking. “Inis, I need you to know that I did not come to Lothlórien with the intention of wooing the first pretty elleth I laid eyes upon. I enjoy a flirtation as much as the next ellon, but I assure you that my feelings for you are quite a bit more serious than that. The fact of the matter is, quite simply, that I am attracted to you, and I act on that attraction as I am used to doing. I am aware of your situation and respectful of any reservations you may feel because of it, but if there is the slightest possibility that you may feel attracted to me as well, I hope you will at least consider the option. However, should you decide that you desire nothing of me except friendship, I’ll be as loyal a friend as you ever had. It is not what I am hoping for, of course, but I’ll live.” He smiled. “Does that assuage your concerns somewhat?”

“Yes… it does.” She released a breath, looking distractedly at the swatches on the table. “Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to look at these?”

“I’m sure,” he said. “I’m leaving the creative process in your capable hands, Inis. I’m sure something beautiful will come out of them.”

“You flatter me too much,” she said as she brought her portfolio back in order, “but I’ll do my best.” She hesitated briefly, looking once more into his sincere blue eyes before sitting down on the nearest chair and offering Legolas a demure smile. “I suppose I’ll have that drink now... if the offer still stands, that is.”

xxx

“What are you smirking at, Marchwarden?”

Haldir’s eyes came up just a fraction too late, making it evident that he had been staring at her backside. “I was just marvelling at how good you look up on that horse,” he said with a widening grin. “I knew you could ride well, but you almost seem like a different person up there, Filanna. You exude such confidence and your seat is impeccable.”

Filanna gave a radiant smile in response, pleased beyond measure with the compliment. “Not very ladylike though, is it? I might strike a more elegant pose if I threw on a skirt and pranced around daintily with my knees pressed together like a proper lady. I’ll have to try that someday.”

He shook his head, his grey eyes wandering away from her face to appraise entirely different parts of her body. “I would be very disappointed if you did.”

The two of them had been riding at a leisurely pace for the last hour or two, bantering and teasing and flirting in a way Filanna hadn’t even known she was capable of. Her confidence was soaring and she basked in his warm attention, never blushing or stammering and even countering his witty remarks with some jests of her own. For once, everything was going exactly the way she would like it to.

Haldir’s choice of route had led them down broad, even paths that made for a comfortable ride, and had brought them within a few miles of Lothlórien’s northern border, where the trees gave way to open meadowland with the Misty Mountains looming in the distance. The weather still held all the good of summer, and the horses seemed to be enjoying the exercise just as much as their riders did. Haldir and Filanna rode without saddles or any other form of gear; the only equipment Tinwë carried was a pair of simple leather saddlebags which Haldir had placed across her withers, containing an afternoon’s supply of water, bread and some fruit.

At around four past noon, they stopped and had a simple picnic in the vicinity of a small rivulet while the horses drank and grazed nearby. They ate mostly in silence, but it was a silence of the comfortable kind; even Filanna, usually the first to try and fill gaps in a conversation with nervous chatter, was content to sit like this and reflect quietly on the things that occupied her mind.

“It is a strange thing,” she mused aloud after a while. “Especially now that we have come so close to the border, I keep expecting a patrol of wardens to appear at any moment, while I know full well that they have no reason to show themselves to us. Still, I know that they cannot be far, and that they must be aware of our presence as well.”

“They are aware,” Haldir said, “but they will not approach us unless we have need of them. A warden’s task is to protect and be invisible, not to meddle in the private affairs of the citizens whom they serve. If you need to relieve yourself in the bushes, you can do so without fear of being seen, trust me.”

She snorted with amusement. “That is not why I asked, but it is reassuring all the same.” She observed him for a while as he took an apple and sliced it deftly in parts with his small knife. She had discovered that he always sliced fruit in the exact same way, and that he had a preference for hard, green apples, the kind that was so sour in taste that the mere thought of them made her toes curl in her boots. How he could eat them without so much as batting an eye was completely beyond her.

“I was thinking…” she said, her gaze wandering in Mithrenfin’s direction. “Since we’ve already come this far, why don’t we make for the grasslands a little further up north? ‘Fin is brimming with energy still, and he hasn’t had a chance to stretch his legs in a decent gallop since last April. He would welcome the exercise, and to be frank, so would I.”

He shook his head slowly. “I am sorry, Filanna, but I don’t think that is such a good idea. The magic that protects our realm reaches only as far as the border, and we are both without arms.”

“But we have hours of daylight yet,” she asserted. “No orc or creature of the darkness will venture out into the field on a sunny day like this. And even if they did, we would see them coming from miles away.”

“True,” he conceded, “but-”

“Come on, Haldir.” She inched closer to him, smiling beguilingly as she placed her arms around his neck. “A few minutes is all I ask. What evil could possibly befall me while the formidable Marchwarden is by my side?”

His lips quirked as he glanced at her sideways. “How interesting, Filanna, that you choose this moment to use your feminine charms on me. You learn quickly indeed.”

“Is it not working?”

“I didn’t say that.” He sighed indulgently. “Very well, but not more than a half hour.”

She smiled broadly, surprised that he was so quick to relent. As her plea had mostly been in jest, she had not expected it to have much effect, but if this was all it took to make him change his mind, her powers of persuasion were much stronger than she had thought. Gazing into his eyes like this, she felt her smile slowly wavering as she became aware of how close their faces actually were, and how loath she suddenly was to let him go. “Kiss me,” she said impulsively, adding as an afterthought, “please.”

He chuckled, looking surprised, but leaned towards her to do as she bade. His mouth tasted of tart apples, but she didn’t mind it, for he was kissing her well and with feeling, even sliding an arm around her waist to draw her closer yet. The kiss was a less urgent one this time around, not quite so much like an onslaught, but it rendered her just as breathless, and left her even more frustrated when it ended. It seemed that the more time she spent with him, the hungrier she became for more of his company, more of his kisses, more of _him_. She had never been one to swoon over a handsome face – as a matter of fact, she had never so much as looked at a particular ellon twice – yet here she was, behaving exactly like the ellith she had mocked in the past. How was she supposed to fight a feeling that had found its way into her heart and put down roots there? He had but to smile at her and her common sense went out the window. The fact that anyone could have such power over her was somewhat alarming, although not so much now as it once used to be.

They mounted their horses again and continued their way north as per Filanna’s request. She could feel Mithrenfin becoming restless, and she was sure he would have broken into an eager trot had she not held him back. She smiled at his impatience, understanding it all too well; she was a wood-elf and the forest was her natural habitat, but nothing compared to the feeling of freedom and near-weightlessness that came with riding a horse in full gallop across the open fields.

“Careful, princess,” Haldir remarked with amusement. “That horse is about to jump away from under you, by the looks of him.”

“He would like to, for sure,” she said with a laugh. “He has the energy of a colt and the manners to go with it, but he does listen to me.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He gave a wry smile. “You have a persuasive way about you that is not to be denied.”

When they came to the fringe of the forest at last, Filanna uttered a small cry of delight at the sight of the lush, gently sloping pastures that stretched out before them, thousands of yellow buttercups and white daisies scattered across the green. It was a clear day; the Misty Mountains with their ever-white peaks and even Caradhras lay in plain sight. Smiling, she turned to face Haldir, who appeared to be scanning the landscape for suspicious presences.

“Relax, Haldir,” she told him. “Wipe that frown off your face, enjoy the scenery. Surely its beauty cannot be lost on you?”

“Forgive me,” he said as he offered her a small, apologetic smile. “My warden instincts cannot be switched off at will, I’m afraid. For my mind’s peace, promise you will not stray too far from me.”

“I will stay ever in your sight, as long as you can keep up with me,” she said playfully, at the same time giving Mithrenfin a signal that prompted him to leap forward with explosive speed, like an arrow leaving the bowstring. Even though she was prepared for it, she had to clench down on the moving flanks with all her strength to remain seated, but she regained her balance and ventured a glance over her shoulder. Haldir had responded as she had hoped, and was following at a few lengths’ distance.

“I’ll not race you, Filanna,” he called to her.

“Why? Because you know you’ll lose?” Feeling emboldened, she clacked her tongue at Mithrenfin, who then increased his speed even more, eating up the ground with his mighty strides. The wind whipped Filanna’s hair left and right, reminding her why she had always insisted on braiding it, until a certain ellon declared that loose hair flattered her more. It was going to be a tangled mess after the ride, but she had at least preserved enough of herself not to care about that. In her opinion, there wasn’t a more thrilling experience to be had than riding a horse at full gallop. The troubles of the day shrank to insignificance, and all that was normally impossible seemed less so during a ride such as this, making her feel like she could reach up and touch the sky if she wanted to.

She looked over her shoulder again to find that Haldir had fallen a little behind; his mare could not keep up with Mithrenfin’s wider strides, although she was making a brave attempt at it. But lo and behold, there was a smile of enjoyment on the stoic Marchwarden’s face as well, one that even broadened when he caught Filanna’s gaze. He seemed to have put his concerns aside for the time being, and she was glad to see it.

Filanna let Mithrenfin have free rein for a few more minutes before asking him to reduce his speed, which he did reluctantly. This allowed Haldir to catch up, and they brought their horses in alignment once more, cantering companionably side by side.

“Tell me, Haldir,” Filanna said teasingly, “do you still think this was such a bad idea?”

“I’ll admit I am enjoying it more than I thought I would,” he replied, “but you cannot blame me for being careful, Filanna. You and I look at these fields with different eyes; I have seen battles here, the grass stained with my kinsmen’s blood. I cannot help but remember that, though I dearly wish to forget. My life on the forefront of Lórien’s defense has taught me to suspect danger behind every tree.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, touched by his grave tone. “Sometimes a tree is just a tree, and a field just a field,” she said earnestly. “It is good to be cautious, to an extent, but if you can no longer see the beauty around you, you may need to ask yourself whether you have been on the forefront of Lórien’s defense for too long.”

“I do notice beauty,” Haldir said with a roguish smile. “Indeed, if I may say so, I think I have quite an eye for it.”

She blushed slightly and rolled her eyes at him. “That is not what I meant and you know it. Haldir, I am quite serious. I know I have hardly any life experience to speak of, compared to you, but it makes my heart bleed to hear you say things like that. If your responsibilities and years of service have taken that much of a-”

Now fully engrossed in their conversation and focused completely on him, she was unprepared for what happened next. She felt Mithrenfin make a wrong step, and reacted a fraction of a moment too late-- while his body came to an abrupt standstill, hers continued to move forward. Like a will-less projectile she was launched off her horse’s back, tumbling through the air for one timeless, surreal moment.

Filanna had fallen off horses hundreds of times, sometimes with painful consequences. She knew how to break a fall, which was why she realized at once that she had made a mistake when she landed on her outstretched hands and felt a sharp jolt of pain shooting up her left arm. She did, however, have the presence of mind to start rolling upon impact, away from the thundering hooves, while she covered her head with her arms. From afar, she thought she heard Haldir shouting her name, but it might have been an illusion. The world was a blur of colours and shapes, and before the earth and sky could shift back into their proper places, Filanna’s vision darkened.

 _Don’t faint._ She blinked a few times, trying vainly to regain focus before the encroaching blackness enveloped her completely. _Don’t-_

xxx

The smithy wasn’t what many would consider to be a hospitable work environment. Located in a remote corner of Caras Galadhon, it was one of the city’s few buildings to be made completely out of stone, and when the forge was working at full capacity the temperature inside rose to levels only an experienced blacksmith like Glamion could stand to work in. Because of the heat, he always worked bare-chested, wearing a leather apron as well as vambraces on his arms as protection against the sparks and small particles of white-hot metal that flew about with every hammer swing. However, throughout the years he had still managed to collect a number of small burn scars, scattered across the skin of his chest and arms.

Glamion had a profound love for his trade. The smithy was his domain, and he felt more comfortable there than he did anywhere else, including his own talan. It gave him a great sense of satisfaction to take a useless piece of metal, heat it to perfect forging temperature and watch it transform into something entirely new under his very hands. It did not even have to be a particularly dignified object like a sword or a piece of armour; he took just as much pleasure in the creation of a horseshoe or a cooking pot, and that was a good thing, because in a city that was home to at least three hundred horses, horseshoes were very much in demand. Glamion was not the only blacksmith in Caras Galadhon, but he had the reputation of being the best, and took no small amount of pride in that fact.

This afternoon, he was working with even more concentration than usual, a frown of feverish determination upon his brow as he let blows of his hammer rain down on the anvil over and over again. He was so engrossed in the work that he hardly even noticed the sting of sweat in his eyes. This was the project that had consumed his every waking hour these past few months, and it desperately needed finishing. There wasn’t much time left-- the warden selections started in less than three weeks and would last no longer than a fortnight. The window of opportunity was small, but if all went according to plan, the ingredients for revenge would soon come together and Glamion would feast on the sweet banquet of justice at last.

Glamion’s resentment towards the wardens rooted deep within his youth. The males of his bloodline had guarded Lothlórien’s borders for many generations, and Glamion and his two older brothers had grown up hearing the tales of their valiant ancestors told over and over again. Rawain and Perchel, his brothers, were already celebrated wardens by the time Glamion was born, and it was generally assumed and expected that he would follow the same path. As he grew up, however, he came to the realization that both his talents and his interests lay elsewhere, and one fateful day he had expressed his desire to pursue a career as a blacksmith to his family. The announcement had not been received well. Glamion had found a master blacksmith willing to teach him and he had worked hard to complete his apprenticeship, but he had never received so much as a word of support from either of his parents. That he was excellent at what he did, didn’t seem to make any difference to them or to his brothers, whom he rarely saw nowadays. He was sure that the younger brother with the inferior calling was an embarrassment to them, and although the hurt of their rejection had long since faded, he still hated them fiercely for it.

And then there was Orophin. How he despised that one! Not content with seducing one of the few ellith Glamion had ever truly been interested in, the young warden had gloated about his conquest and made Glamion feel the humiliation over and over again. It was almost sickening to watch him strut around in his uniform, proud as a peacock. He and the rest of his kind needed to be taught a lesson in humility, there was no doubt about that. Perhaps, Glamion reasoned, it would finally give him the peace of mind he craved. These past years, anger and need for revenge had been eating away at him, consuming his mind and poisoning it with hatred, until he hardly recognized himself. The warden selections presented a golden opportunity, likely the best he would ever get. There would be punishment, no doubt, and harsh words from the Lord and Lady; but if he succeeded, the satisfaction would be well worth it.

There was a knock on the door. Glamion’s arm froze in mid-air; he never received visitors here, and he certainly didn’t need an audience for _this_. “Who’s there?”

“Eglandir. I have news. Can I come in?”

Glamion relaxed somewhat. “Fine, but the news had better be good.”

The door opened and Eglandir, who was as close to a friend as Glamion had, walked in, frowning with displeasure at the heat in the smithy. “Is that it?” he asked, nodding at what was on the anvil.

“This is only a study,” Glamion replied curtly. “I have yet to start making the real thing.”

“You’re taking your merry time. Are you sure this is going to work out, time-wise?”

“We proceed as planned,” Glamion coolly replied. “You can leave this part of the operation to me, Eglandir. Now what is this news you came to tell me? Be quick about it, my time is valuable.”

“You’ll be pleased,” Eglandir said. “I just heard from Carafin that his sister has agreed to join our little conspiracy.”

“And she knows exactly what is expected of her?”

“It’s a simple assignment, isn’t it?” Eglandir smiled. “I believe she was quite easily persuaded.”

Glamion grimaced. “Still, I wish we didn’t have to get her involved, that there was another way. But I haven’t been able to think of anything that captures Orophin’s attention quite like a pretty face does. The fool is so laughably predictable.”

Eglandir nodded. “In a sense, it is a shame Orophin is but a lowly soldier. Just imagine the scandal if we could somehow outwit his brother the Marchwarden, instead.”

“Haldir? Our plan would never work on him,” Glamion scoffed. “He has eyes in the back of his head, that one. You shouldn’t underestimate him.”

“I’ve never heard you speak of him in such lauding terms, Glamion,” Eglandir mocked.

“I know the importance of knowing and respecting one’s enemy’s strengths. Orophin may be vain and gullible, but his brother certainly is not.” Glamion sighed wearily. “In any case, our target was always going to be Orophin. Do try and stay focused, Eglandir.”

“Fine, I’ll say no more about it. But the Marchwarden is going to be a factor, Glamion, no matter how you slice it. You know how tight those brothers are. If Haldir smells something rotten before we make our move, we could be in real trouble.”

“I’ve thought about that,” Glamion admitted. “But remember, the event will claim much of his time. We’ll just have to try and work around him, and with a little luck, he’ll be too busy making eyes at that Mirkwood elleth to pay any attention to us.” He smiled. “Who knows, she may just serve a purpose after all.”

xxx

When Filanna opened her eyes, there was a face hovering over her. It was a face she knew, yet it looked strangely unfamiliar, for she could not recall ever having seen the Marchwarden of Lórien look frightened before. It was a rather disconcerting sight, and the first words she spoke were to reassure him.

“I’m fine.” She narrowed her eyes against the bright sunlight that suddenly flooded her vision. “What happened? How long was I out?”

“Only a minute or so,” he replied. “You took a nasty tumble, Filanna.”

“Mithrenfin, where is he? Is he hurt?” Suddenly alarmed, she began to sit up.

“Lie still!” he commanded, with such authoritative urgency that she instantly froze where she lay. “You have a bleeding wound on your forehead and possibly a concussion. I need to ascertain whether you have any other injuries.”

“A wound?” She gingerly touched her forehead, surprised to see her fingers coming back with blood on them.

“You must have hit your head upon impact,” he said, carefully running his hands up and down her legs. “Tell me if this hurts.”

“Where is Mithrenfin?” she insisted. “Did he fall? Is he all right?”

“He seems well enough.” Haldir pointed at the grey stallion, who stood nearby with his head lowered. “He is up on his feet, at least. I don’t know exactly what happened yet, but he appeared to make a misstep. One moment he was right beside me and the next he was flailing upon the ground.”

“Oh, no.” Filanna groaned. “Is he lame?”

“I don’t know, Filanna,” he reiterated. “I made the judgment call of seeing to you first, if that’s all right. Now, don’t be startled, I need to put my hands underneath your clothes for a moment.”

“What?” she asked uncertainly, then drew in a breath when she felt his fingers gently probing underneath her tunic and examining her stomach.

He smiled slightly when her wide eyes met his. “Are you ticklish?”

She burst out in nervous giggles. “Very much so, actually.”

“I’m as careful as I can be. Does your ribcage hurt? Can you breathe without trouble?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” He withdrew his hands. “You have no sprained or broken ribs, as far as I can tell. Do you feel pain anywhere else? Your neck, your back?”

“No, but...” She suddenly remembered the pain in her left arm and flexed it without thinking, a small cry escaping her. “I think my wrist might be broken, or at least sprained.”

“Let me see.” He took her hand and very carefully examined the alignment of her wrist bones. She braced herself impulsively, but his large hands were surprisingly gentle. After a moment or two he said, “I don’t feel any breaks, so it might be just a sprain. It needs ice, but unfortunately, that will have to wait until we get to Caras Galadhon. Stabilizing it with a splint is all I can do.”

She sighed, frustrated by this misfortune, and proceeded to utter a series of expletives that made Haldir smile in spite of himself. “What,” she muttered when she saw his amused expression, “did you think that a king’s daughter can’t curse?”

He rose to his feet with a chuckle. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a moment.”

As he stalked away, she could not resist sitting up cautiously, making sure not to put weight on her left wrist. She felt promptly lightheaded, and came dangerously close to emptying her stomach upon the grass, but the nausea thankfully subsided after a moment or two. The dull, pounding headache that spread across her skull, however, did not.

Haldir returned within moments with the saddlebag, shaking his head as he knelt in front of her. “Did I not tell you to lie still, stubborn elleth?” he chided softly. “You look moments away from fainting a second time.”

“I’m fine,” she said again, somewhat untruthfully, as she looked with surprise at the amount of medical supplies that came from Haldir’s bag. He appeared to be searching for a specific item, and gave a fleeting smile of relief as he produced a roll of bandage cloth. Not bothering with a knife, he tore off a piece with his teeth and gave it to her.

“Press this against the wound, firmly,” he instructed. “It should at least staunch the bleeding a bit while I tend to your wrist.”

She did as she was told, rather overwhelmed by his resolute manner, and continued to watch in growing wonder as he quite expertly bandaged her already swelling wrist. The consequences of what had happened were slowly sinking in, and although she knew she ought to be thankful that her fall hadn’t resulted in worse than a sprained wrist, her spirits were severely dampened by the prospect of not being able to indulge in her favourite pastimes for a few weeks at least. What on earth was she going to do with her time?

Haldir bandaged her wrist and lower arm several times over and murmured what appeared to be healing spells as he did so. He used two splints from his supply for extra support, rendering her wrist joint completely immobile. The whole process took only a few minutes, making her wonder how many times he had done this before.

“I would trade these splints for a proper cold compress in a heartbeat,” he said, almost as if he were speaking to himself, “but it’ll have to do for now. You should keep your arm elevated to reduce swelling. Rest it on my shoulder, if that helps.”

She followed his instructions without question, as he clearly had more knowledge about these things than she did. Her wrist was throbbing and hurting quite badly, but keeping it raised did seem to help a little.

“Now, let’s have a look at this,” he said, turning his attention to the cut on her forehead. He took the cloth from her hand and surveyed the wound with a critical eye.

“How bad is it?” she asked. “Can you see my brain?”

He chuckled. “The blood makes it look quite dramatic, but a few stitches will take care of it. I’ll have it done in a few minutes.”

“You?” she asked incredulously.

He smiled at her doubtful tone. “Without sutures, that wound will continue to bleed, and we are hours away from the city. I am not a healer, but I have had medical training and am qualified to perform simple procedures such as this in the field. I have done this at least a thousand times. Once it heals, it probably won’t even leave a scar.”

“I don’t care about scars,” she murmured, somewhat offended that he would think her that vain. “Well, then, do what you must.”

Haldir took every precaution possible, washing his hands and rinsing the wound with fresh water from one of the flasks until he was convinced it was as clean as it was going to get. Then he took an unused, two-inch needle and prepared it with a sufficient length of thread. “Do you trust me?” he asked, amusement sparking in his eye.

“Do I have a choice?” she retorted lightly. “Please proceed, Haldir. I am not childish about these things, and I am familiar with the procedure.”

“You are?”

“Of course.” She offered him a lopsided smile. “You didn’t think that a wild child like me could grow up without the occasional damage, did you? My poor Nana must have been exasperated with me at times, perhaps still is.”

Once he got to work, she was again surprised that hands like his could perform such a delicate task. It wasn’t exactly a pleasurable experience, but compared to the throbbing pain in her wrist, it was only a small discomfort. After a while, her mind even started to drift, turning to her horse with renewed concern. A horse needed four healthy legs more than anything, and if Mithrenfin had hurt one of his during the fall, there was no telling what the future had in store for him. Her anxiety increased, making it difficult to remain still, which Haldir of course noticed.

“I’ll let you go to him in a few moments, Filanna,” he assured her gently. “Please sit still a little longer.”

“I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I regret that you had to find out firsthand what a bad patient I am.”

He smiled. “I’ve seen worse, trust me.”

Once he had secured the final knot, Haldir cut off the ends of superfluous thread and gently tilted her head so that he could survey his handiwork. “Some of my best work, if I say so myself. Now, one more bandage and you’re done.”

She gave him a wry smile as he wrapped a generous length of bandage around her head. “I’m sure I look ridiculous.”

“I will do what I can to remedy that.” He moistened a piece of cloth with water and used it to clean her face, wiping off the dirt and blood that had already dried upon her skin. In any other case, she would have insisted on doing it herself, but he performed the task with such tender diligence that she could not bring herself to speak. He had just sewn her forehead back together with his bare hands-- and that while she was already indebted to him in so many ways that she was beginning to think she would never be able to repay him for everything he had done. She could not even do a simple thing like inviting him to dinner, as that would only bring her further embarrassment. Valar, how useless were her skills!

“Well then, do you want to try and get up?” Haldir asked. “You may feel dizzy or nauseous, so take it easy. I’ll support you if necessary.”

She took the hand he offered her and got to her feet. The nausea returned instantly, and she felt herself swaying where she stood, prompting Haldir to grasp her by her elbows. Her chest hurt from the impact with the ground, and she was sure that she would be as stiff as a plank the following day.

“It’s all right,” she said once she had regained control of herself. “You can let go of me, Haldir. I promise I won’t keel over.”

He did as she asked, but his eyes stayed on her as she gazed around in search of Mithrenfin. He was standing on the exact same spot as before, which did not alleviate her concerns at all. With fear in her heart, she moved towards him as quickly as her pounding head and aching limbs allowed her. She called to him sweetly, hoping to persuade him to meet her halfway. For a few moments, it didn’t seem like he was going to, but eventually he did respond to her calls and took a few steps in her direction. Filanna’s heart sank when she saw that he was clearly favouring one front leg over the other as he walked. She knelt down, muttering reassuring words as she ran her unbandaged hand over his front legs, looking for any sign of swelling or injury. Upon first inspection, she found nothing suspicious.

Haldir, in the meantime, had gone to inspect the area where the accident had happened, and rejoined her after a few minutes to report his findings.

“There is a hole in the ground, right about where you fell,” he said. “Perhaps it once belonged to a rabbit or other small animal, but it appears old and abandoned now. It is overgrown and easily overlooked.”

“I should have been more attentive all the same,” Filanna said. “I was distracted when it happened, and that was my mistake.” She sighed. “Something is definitely wrong with Mithrenfin. He is not resting his full weight on one of his forelegs, but I cannot find anything.”

“We’ll leave it to the experts to investigate, Filanna,” he said. “My first priority now is to get you to the city and hand you over to the healers as soon as possible. Tinwë will have to carry the both of us, but your weight should not give her much trouble.”

Incredulously, she turned and looked up to meet his gaze. “Are you suggesting that we leave Mithrenfin behind here?”

“It is the only option. He would cause too much delay if we took him with us, and if he is hurt like you say, the journey back to Caras Galadhon would likely worsen his condition. He’ll have to be transported, for his own sake. I’ll start making the arrangements as soon as we reach the city, but for now, he must stay here.”

She shook her head, unwilling to accept the undeniable truth in his words. “No... we cannot just leave him here! He might become spooked, start wandering to Eru knows where. Once daylight fails and the creatures of the night come out, who knows what may happen to him.”

He gazed down at her for a few moments, considering. Finally he turned around, towards the forest, brought his hands to his mouth and produced a series of hard, clear whistles that echoed away across the plain. He then remained very still, apparently waiting for something, but Filanna heard or saw nothing out of the ordinary. He whistled again, repeating the exact same pattern as before, and this time, an answering call came from afar. For some time, Haldir and the unknown other communicated with one another like this, until Haldir changed his position and sent his calls in a different direction. Again he was answered, and a second, similar exchange followed while Filanna observed in confusion.

At last Haldir turned to face her once more. “The nearest patrol is sending a few scouts to stay with Mithrenfin until further notice. They can be here in twenty minutes. Is that acceptable?”

“I... suppose,” she said hesitantly.

He reached down, grasping her arms gently and helping her rise. “Filanna, I _promise_ you I will not rest until your horse is back in his stall and receiving the best possible care. I know that you want him to be safe and well, but that is what I want for you also. Therefore I beg you, _please_ , let me take you to the city without further delay.”

She stared at him, taken aback by his fierce plea. Until that moment, she had not thought Haldir capable of begging for anything. “Yes, I’ll come with you.”

While Haldir packed his things, Filanna spent a few minutes reassuring Mithrenfin and explaining to him why she had to leave his side for a little while. She was sure that he understood her, but that only soothed her conscience a little bit.

“We should leave him in the vicinity of water,” she told Haldir when he rejoined her with Tinwë. “There is nothing around here for him to drink.”

“My kinsmen will see to that, Filanna. They will be here in about fifteen minutes.”

She sighed, nodding resignedly. “You’re right. I am sorry for making such a fuss.”

“I know how much you care about him, Filanna. You don’t need to apologize for that.” He looked at Tinwë pensively. “It seems to me that you will be most comfortable sitting in front, facing me. I’ll mount first and then assist you. Do you concur?”

“Whatever you think best, Haldir.”

Seeing her defeated expression, Haldir gave her an encouraging smile. “Take heart, my princess,” he said, taking her right hand and kissing it lightly. “All will be well, you’ll see.”

She gave him a wan smile in return. “You are very kind. I just pray that you are right also.”

He mounted smoothly, then reached down and picked her up as though she was little more than a toddler and weighed just as much. “Now put your legs across my thighs, like this,” he instructed. “Put your left arm around my neck to keep it elevated. Are you comfortable like this?”

“Yes,” she answered truthfully. “And Tinwë hasn’t even flinched. She is a very good horse.”

“That she is.” Haldir reached around to loosely grab a handful of flaxen mane and clacked his tongue, prompting the mare to set off at a calm pace. Looking over Haldir’s shoulder as they headed towards the forest, Filanna could see that Mithrenfin had started grazing and did not try to follow them. She sighed. Not even an hour ago, she had felt so energetic and carefree; how quickly all of that had changed! She was not particularly worried about herself-- she was more inclined to feel sorry for the unfortunate people who would be charged with taking care of her during her recovery. She valued her independence greatly and being bedridden would cause her to become bored and cranky very fast. And then there was of course her horse to worry about.

She felt immensely tired suddenly. Her head seemed ready to burst, and her eyes were so sensitive to light that she soon surrendered to the urge to close them. Within moments, her head was resting in the nook of Haldir’s shoulder, which seemed perfect for the purpose. It was not exactly the sort of embrace she had dreamed of, but it served its purpose in the sense that it made her feel sheltered and less miserable. With the rhythmic cadence of the horse’s gait gently rocking her back and forth, Filanna soon fell asleep.


	20. Where There Is Smoke

It was not exactly the most comfortable ride home Haldir had ever experienced. Filanna was sleeping as though she was in a comfortable feather bed, rather than on top of a moving horse; she sagged against him like a rag doll, and he had to reposition her left arm every few minutes, as it kept sliding off his shoulder. However, he had decided to let her sleep for the time being-- she was without a doubt more comfortable that way, and the fact that she had been completely lucid after her fall tempered his concerns somewhat, but he cursed the miles that separated them from Caras Galadhon’s medical staff and a proper bed for Filanna.

They had gone for about a half hour when Filanna suddenly spoke. “Look, a deer.”

Haldir, who had not realized that she had woken up, looked around in surprise. “Where?”

“There’s a deer,” she insisted.

“Filanna, I am not seeing any deer.” Even as he said it, Haldir glimpsed at her face and found to his amazement that her eyes were still closed. She was talking in her sleep.

“Legolas can’t find the chickens,” she babbled on, her articulation clear as glass. “Ada put them on the mantelpiece.”

Haldir could not suppress a smile as he studied her face more closely. He had never seen Filanna asleep before, which led him to wonder whether this was a result of her fall or something she did more often. She looked endearing with her head against his shoulder like that, the white bandage contrasting starkly with her dark brown hair, and he was acutely reminded of the enigmatic words Galadriel had spoken to him a while back, at the celebration in Legolas’s honour.

_They are a breath of fresh air. Thranduil’s children. They possess that spark, that kernel of divine light that makes others feel blessed to gaze upon them._

Filanna had been so distraught to learn of that one brief conversation he had had with her sister Ameria years ago, but the truth of the matter was that he had only a vague remembrance of it. He remembered Ameria as a pretty elleth, to be sure, but with none of the self-irony and dry wit he found so attractive in Filanna. He did not believe that any of her sisters would be able to hold his interest for very long, but then, his tastes were not that easily satisfied. His brothers, Orophin especially, had teased him for it on many an occasion, but he was indifferent to their critique. Why his siblings felt the need to comment on his love life to begin with was something he had never understood. He did not meddle in their private affairs-- was it too much to ask that they return the favour?

Filanna continued to babble in her sleep for the next ten minutes or so, uttering mostly bizarre phrases that held little meaning and in which her siblings’ names were prominently featured. Haldir heard it all with a half smile, noting with some surprise – as well as a vague feeling of disappointment – that neither Lórien nor any of its inhabitants were mentioned even once. Once she fell silent, he was sorry for losing the distraction, as the silence and their languid pace inevitably caused his mind to drift and go down paths he would rather avoid.

Upon reflection, Haldir was a little troubled by the ease with which she had made herself such a substantial part of his life. Not even six months ago, he barely knew of her existence, yet these days she was in his thoughts almost constantly. He could not remember the last time a female had stirred such potent desires in him, and the depth of his attraction to her continued to amaze him. She was without a doubt one of the most complex and intriguing women he had ever met: headstrong yet insecure, witty yet introverted, and despite her royal blood and upbringing, completely lacking in natural elegance and femininity. However, she had a strong sense of honour and her heart was in the right place. Being on her own, free from the restrictions of courtly life, had given her the opportunity to develop and nurture her sense of self in a whole new way, and the results were starting to show. From underneath the indistinctive plumage of youth, a bird of paradise was slowly emerging, and Haldir could not help but want her desperately, more so every day.

_Change. Do you not desire it, or do you fear it?_

He sighed, glancing at her face again. Her features were relaxed, the corners of her mouth even suggesting a smile. It seemed that he had finally won that which he had so long striven to achieve: her trust, perhaps even her affection. Filanna did not give either on a whim; he could not let her down now by giving in to silly fears that had dictated his life’s choices for so many years. He carefully gathered her a bit closer and asked Tinwë to increase her speed, hoping that Filanna would not wake because of it-- although it would not surprise him in the least if she was capable of sleeping atop a horse in full gallop.

They finally came to Caras Galadhon early in the evening. Filanna had woken a couple of times during the ride and spoken a few lucid sentences, which had tempered Haldir’s concern to such a degree that he felt he could safely cast a light sleeping spell on her, just strong enough to keep her under until she was safely in the healers’ quarters. Their arrival at the gate, needless to say, caused some commotion among the sentinels who were standing guard there.

“She is only sleeping,” he clarified as Tinwë sank to her knees gracefully, allowing him to dismount with his precious cargo in his arms. “Take my horse to the stables, and tell Felegron to start making all necessary preparations for the transport of an injured horse. I’ll come to the stables as soon as I can and explain everything. And fetch me the young Prince of Mirkwood. I don’t care where he is or how long it takes, find him and tell him to come to the healers’ quarters without delay.”

There were certainly advantages, Haldir reflected as one of the sentinels saluted and ran off to do his bidding, to being the Marchwarden and not having one’s orders questioned. On the other hand, it was undoubtedly one of the reasons why so many people thought him unapproachable and even arrogant. He did not use his authority as Marchwarden for personal gain, but he might have grown just a little too accustomed to giving orders, when in most cases a simple request would suffice.

Haldir drew a fair amount of attention, walking the short distance to the healers’ telain with Filanna’s limp body in his arms, but his only immediate concern was to deliver her into more capable hands than his own, not to soothe the concerns of passers-by. Among them was Glamion, whose charcoal eyes met Haldir’s as he was about to climb the final flight of steps to the healers’ quarters. The farrier looked neutrally curious, more intrigued than worried by Filanna’s state, but he turned away at seeing Haldir’s warning glare, feigning complete disinterest.

The healer in charge, to whose care Filanna was assigned upon arrival, was a seasoned veteran in her field, and a brief examination of Filanna’s badly swollen wrist confirmed Haldir’s diagnosis of a sprain. While she set to applying a new bandage and packing it with ice, Haldir recapitulated the accident in a few sentences.

“A sprain is unpleasant, but riding accidents not seldom result in more serious injuries,” the healer said as she lifted Filanna’s eyelids one by one. “Concussion is a strong possibility, but since you say she was lucid afterwards, I wouldn’t worry too much about that. We’ll keep her here for observation tonight and see how she feels when she wakes up. In any case, she’ll need a few days of absolute bed rest to allow the joint to start healing.”

She carefully removed the bandage from Filanna’s head and cast an expert glance at the cut in her forehead. “These are exemplary stitches, Haldir. You have a steady hand.”

“It didn’t feel so steady back there,” he muttered, gazing absent-mindedly at Filanna’s pale face from where he stood at the foot end of the bed.

“I understand.” The healer gave him a knowing smile. “It is always different with someone you care about, isn’t it? When my son dislocated his shoulder a few years back, I had to call in another healer because I couldn’t bring myself to treat him. You did what you could with the means available, Haldir. The young lady was very lucky to have you near when it happened.”

At this point, sounds of commotion could be heard just outside the room, and moments later Legolas burst through the door, followed closely by two protesting assistant healers who unsuccessfully tried to stop him. The healer frowned at this unceremonious entrance, but her obvious disapproval did not deter the young lord in the slightest.

“What is going on?” he demanded as he strode into the room, his normally radiant face clouded with worry. “What happened to my sister?”

“Do not be alarmed, Legolas,” Haldir told him. “She’s had a riding accident, but she is in good hands now. She has a sprained wrist and likely a concussion.”

“Lord Eru.” With an air of great relief, Legolas leaned against the talan wall with one hand, resting the other across his heart as if to soothe its pounding beat. “Is that all?”

Haldir raised an eyebrow, rather bewildered by Legolas’s reaction. “Is it not enough?”

Legolas smiled. “Believe me, Haldir, if you had known my sister as long as I have, a sprained wrist wouldn’t cause you too much concern either. Filanna has been exposing herself to bodily harm ever since she learned how to walk. Miraculously, she hasn’t broken anything as of yet, but Naneth insists that it is bound to happen someday and that we better all pray that it won’t be her neck.” He walked up to the bed and leaned down to kiss Filanna gently on the cheek. Behind him, the healer nodded at the two elves who had come in with Legolas, and they grudgingly left.

“I’ve splinted your sister’s wrist and applied a cold compress to reduce swelling,” she told Legolas. “She is currently under a sleeping spell, but she should wake up soon, after which I will examine her for signs of concussion. We will keep her under close surveillance for the next twenty-four hours, but I fully expect her to make a speedy recovery.”

“I’m sure you will do what is best for my sister, milady.” Legolas gave what was without a doubt the most disarming smile in his arsenal. “And please forgive my brutal entrance. Haldir’s cryptic summons had me concerned.”

Haldir noted with sour amusement that the previously austere healer defrosted visibly under the influence of the prince’s charms. “I understand,” she said. “If you like, you can stay here with her. She probably won’t be feeling her best once she wakes up, so a familiar face in the room will be of comfort. I will return in an hour to see if she has woken up by then.”

The healer departed from the room, leaving silence behind in her wake. Legolas sat down on the mattress next to Filanna and glanced at Haldir, who had not left his spot near the foot end of the bed. “Pull up a chair, Haldir, and fill me in on the details of what happened.”

“I cannot,” Haldir replied. “Mithrenfin was also hurt in the accident. I must make arrangements for transport and return to the border to fetch him. Filanna could barely be persuaded to leave him behind; if I don’t have news of him next time I see her awake, I’ll be in a world of trouble.”

Legolas rose to his feet. “I’ll come with you.”

“That is kindly offered, but I would rather you stayed here with her, as per the healer’s suggestion. There will be others to aid me.”

“I’ll be of more use if I come along,” Legolas asserted. “Mithrenfin has a mind of his own, not unlike my sister, as I am sure you have noticed. But he knows me. If he decides to throw a tantrum, I might be able to calm him down and persuade him to do your bidding. I’ll bring my own horse, Patch; those two have known each other since before they were weaned. You’ll have a much smoother operation with the both of us there.”

Haldir measured the young elf in front of him, considering his arguments. “Who will sit with Filanna, then? She cannot stay here all alone.”

“Inis. Inis can stay with her,” Legolas answered without hesitation. “This is how Filanna herself would want it, Haldir, and she would tell you that if she was in a position to. You know that as well as I do.”

Haldir could only grudgingly acknowledge the truth in those words. Valar, what was it about those Mirkwood royals that made it so hard to deny them anything? Deciding that he could not afford to waste time debating the issue, Haldir conceded. “Fair enough. If you can arrange it with Inis, I’ll not protest any further. I must to the stables now and speak with Felegron.”

Legolas nodded in agreement. “I will meet you there as soon as I can.”

Before leaving, Legolas leaned over Filanna’s bed once more, murmuring something to her Haldir did not understand. Despite his haste, Haldir lingered to observe the two. He loved his brothers dearly, but this was something he did not know: the affection of a brother for a younger sister. However, he found he could not envy Legolas very much; he sometimes thought two siblings too much to contend with, let alone six.

For the first time, Haldir felt the weight of the day’s events settle on his shoulders, suddenly wanting nothing more than to sit down at Filanna’s bedside and wait for her to wake up. Despite the reassurance that she would be well looked after, he did not like the idea of leaving her side under these circumstances.

“She’ll bounce back before you know it, Haldir,” Legolas said, making Haldir wonder how much his face had betrayed. “What she needs right now is for that horse to be taken care of, so let’s go and make that happen. Until then, you won’t be of any use sitting here and holding her hand.” As he made for the door, he slapped Haldir’s shoulder amicably in passing, adding with a mischievous grin, “If I am not mistaken, you will have plenty of chances to do just that in the time to come.”

xxx

Filanna was disoriented when she woke up and didn’t recognize her surroundings. She was in a bed that didn’t feel like her own, surrounded by walls that looked equally unfamiliar. She began to move, but when her protesting limbs reminded her acutely of what had happened, she sank back into the pillows with a groan. It seemed ages since she and Haldir began the journey home from the northern grasslands; had she actually slept all that time?

“Ah, you are awake.” Inis, who sat on a chair by Filanna’s bedside, lowered her mending work into her lap. “You are in the healers’ quarters, Filanna. How are you feeling?”

“Like a wreck,” Filanna replied truthfully, gravel in her voice. She turned a glance towards her left arm, which was propped up on several pillows, bandaged and packed with ice. She dared not move it, but it hurt even in rest. “Where is Haldir?”

“He and Legolas have gone to retrieve your horse.” Inis poured a glass of water from a carafe on the bedside cabinet. “They left not long ago.”

“Together?” Filanna laughed raspily, at the same time wincing as her sore ribs reminded her not to do that. “That troubles me, though I don’t know exactly why.”

Inis smiled as she held the glass against Filanna’s lips. “You wish for them to get along, I suppose. That is only natural, meldis.”

Filanna took a few sips of water and lay back, gingerly touching her forehead, which also sported a new bandage. “I can’t believe I’ve slept this long. The journey here... I remember nothing at all.”

“Haldir cast a sleeping spell on you, I believe,” Inis said as she leaned back into her chair. “And you are likely to stay groggy for a day or two due to concussion. I have no medical expertise, but the healer said your wrist requires at least a few days of absolute rest. You have been very lucky, Filanna.”

“I am aware of that.” Filanna bit her lip pensively. “I don’t know what I would have done without Haldir. He was so calm and he took such good care of me. How does he know all these things, Inis? He told me he has had medical training; are all wardens required to?”

Inis shook her head. “Not at this time, but Haldir would like for that rule to be instated sooner rather than later. He feels very strongly that every elf in the field should be able to provide emergency care, but although he has been pleading the case for years, there are some who oppose it.”

“Why? It sounds like a very sensible idea to me.”

Inis shrugged. “Some believe that such an operation would be impossible to coordinate. There are at least five hundred wardens on active duty, but experienced healers are few, and their time is already stretched thin. I understand the difficulties, but to Haldir it is very frustrating. He knows like no other how fragile life can be. He’s seen it slip away between his fingers so many times.”

Filanna sighed wistfully. “Elbereth, I hope Mithrenfin doesn’t give him too much trouble. He has done so much and I haven’t even thanked him yet.”

“You will have your chance yet, Filanna,” Inis said reassuringly. “I’m sure Haldir will come and see you again as soon as he can. Legolas said that he seemed loath to leave your side to begin with.”

“Did he?” Filanna murmured, suffused with a strange sense of pleasure that brought a blush to her face. It even numbed the throbbing of her wrist for a moment or two. “It was very kind of you to keep me company, Inis, but if you have somewhere else to be, don’t feel obligated to stay on my behalf. If Drauglan needs you-”

“Mereniel is watching him,” Inis said as she picked up her mending work again. “He was very worried when he heard what happened. He’ll probably want to visit you very soon to convince himself that all your limbs are still attached.”

Filanna chuckled. “Tell him I would like that very much. It looks as though I won’t be going anywhere for a while, so I’ll need all the distraction I can get.”

Inis’s quiet, friendly company brought a little cheer to what would otherwise have been a lonely and dreary evening, interrupted only by the healer’s visit and the arrival of some bread and porridge for Filanna to eat. Lamps were lit as it grew dark outside, and when eventually it grew too late for Inis to remain, she left with a kiss on Filanna’s cheek and the promise to return the following day. Shortly after eleven, the healer paid one last visit to change the ice pack on Filanna’s wrist.

“Have you by any chance heard from Haldir and my brother?” Filanna asked. “Do you know if they have returned?”

“There is no news that I know of,” the healer replied. “Are you comfortable? In case you need to relieve yourself during the night, there is a chamber pot underneath the bed. You can call for assistance if you cannot manage it alone.”

Pretending not to have heard these words, Filanna insisted, “If Haldir or my brother comes back, would you please let me know? You can wake me up for it if need be, although I doubt that I will sleep at all tonight.”

“I recommend that you try. The healing process will benefit from a good night’s rest.” The healer went about the room, snuffing out all lamps but one. “It is getting late, Lady Filanna, and the Marchwarden will likely wait until the morning. But if he does come and request a visit, I promise we will not deny him.”

The healer departed, leaving Filanna alone with her thoughts once again. As midnight came and went, sleep continued to elude her as expected. It wasn’t so much the pain in her wrist that kept her awake-- she found she could banish that discomfort quite easily to the fringes of her consciousness. It was a fair price to pay for her stupidity, in any case. What was unfair was that Haldir was now out there somewhere, sacrificing his night’s rest to pick up the pieces of her latest mishap. How could she have been so nonchalant? If Mithrenfin was badly hurt, she would never forgive herself.

She was so immersed in her gloomy thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the door when it finally did open and a healer poked his head around. “Lady Filanna, are you awake?”

“Like an owl,” she replied.

The door opened a little wider. “Haldir, the Marchwarden, is here. Are you fit to receive him?”

“Lord Eru, finally! Yes, let him in at once.” She tried to sit up a little and caught herself running a hand through the unkempt mess that was her hair, painfully aware of her dishevelled appearance. The healer retreated, and moments later Haldir entered the room, his stride as energetic as ever although his eyes betrayed fatigue. Seeing it made her feel even more guilty, and she hurried to profess her gladness at seeing him.

“I apologize for the lateness of the hour,” he said, taking a chair and seating himself on her right hand side. “The operation took more time than I would have liked, but went as well as could reasonably be expected. I had a suspicion you would still be awake, so I came as quickly as I could to tell you the news.”

“Did ‘Fin not give you too much trouble?” she asked. “If only I could have helped-”

“Some coaxing was necessary, but Legolas did a fine job as your replacement. Mithrenfin is safely in his stall now; his leg will be looked at in the morning, when he is settled down.”

Filanna nodded, heaving a deep sigh. “I cannot thank you enough, Haldir. For you to go through all this trouble, in the middle of the night-”

“I am used to waking.” He smiled slightly, his attentive eyes sliding across her face. “How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad, considering the circumstances,” she replied. “My mind is restless, and I wish I was a little more mobile. I am used to sleeping on my side, and I already grow weary of lying in this one attitude.”

She stopped suddenly, chiding herself for complaining so to the one who had spent the past few hours toiling on her behalf.

“You should go home, Haldir,” she told him. “You have done all that you can, and I thank you for it. Go home and get some well-earned sleep.”

“I’m not tired.” He lowered his eyes momentarily. “With your permission, it would please me to sit here for a little while, at least until you fall asleep.”

“I am not sure if that is going to happen,” she said, giving him a sidelong glance. “Unless you plan to cast a spell on me again.”

He caught her meaning and gave a mischievous smile. “No, princess, I do not plan to make a habit out of that. My only thought was to keep you as comfortable as possible.” His gaze travelled across her body. “I notice that you are still wearing your riding gear. I’ll ask Legolas to bring you some clean clothes in the morning.”

Nodding gratefully, she was about to reply when her eye fell on an odd stain on the sleeve of his tunic. “What is that?” she asked, pointing at it. “Is that _blood_?”

He glanced down briefly, not showing much interest in the rusty brown spot. “I suppose it is. It must have happened this afternoon.”

“My blood?” To her own horror, Filanna felt her eyes watering. “Is that _my_ blood on your shirt?”

“It is nothing, Filanna.” Clearly bewildered by her emotional reaction, Haldir leaned in a little closer. “Please, don’t be upset.”

“But... such a handsome shirt.” His comforting words only made her cry harder, the day’s events finally culminating in a release of emotions that was completely alien to her. “And I can’t even wash it for you, with my arm like this. I can do nothing at all, except lying here like a sack of potatoes and being useless.”

“Filanna, please stop.” He reached for her uninjured hand and took it in a gentle grasp. “You are not useless, not now and not ever. What in the world gave you that idea?”

She tried vainly to stop her bottom lip from quivering. “I have been so unpleasant to you in the past. By all rights, you shouldn’t even like me, yet you do all these wonderful things for me and there is nothing that I can do in return.” She took a steadying breath and fixed her red-rimmed eyes upon him sternly. “Don’t even think about offering me a handkerchief right now, Haldir. I’d have to strangle you, injury or no injury.”

He smiled. “I don’t have one upon my person, so I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to.”

“Good.” She sighed and lowered her eyes. “A word of advice, Haldir. If it is not too late, you should undo the worst mistake of your life and take Bereth back. I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

Haldir lifted an eyebrow, looking more than a little surprised. “I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can. She won’t object, I’m sure.”

“That is irrelevant. Fact remains that I can’t go back to the way things were before.”

Filanna desperately wished that she could wipe her eyes and running nose, but Haldir still held her right hand and the other was useless. “Why not, you stubborn mule?”

She could see him trying not to smile. “Because I’ve made a choice, and I stand by it. I care about Bereth, but I don’t want to be with her, not in that way. I want to be with you.”

She grimaced. “In Eru’s name, why?”

Haldir shook his head in wry amusement. “We all have our shortcomings, Filanna. Yet for all their imperfections, I still love my brothers and enjoy spending time with them-- at least occasionally.” He gave a fleeting grin. “My point is... don’t worry so much about any mistakes you may have made in the past, and in Elbereth’s name, just be yourself. You are doing yourself and the rest of the world such a disservice by hiding in your shell.”

His kind sincerity struck a tender chord, and Filanna, who was already emotional, felt yet more tears welling up. She must have taken quite a blow to the head indeed.

“And now,” Haldir went on with an air of finality, “I need you to put everything out of your mind and get some sleep. Mithrenfin is well looked after, and you will not help him by waking and worrying.”

She nodded slowly, too weary to argue. “You will stay and sit with me a little longer?”

“I’ll do even more than that.” He rose from his chair and seated himself next to her on the bed, meeting her stunned gaze as he lifted his arm in invitation. “I fear I am not as soft as feather pillows, but... if I may?”

Her face glowing like hot coals, Filanna eased her body into the angle of his chest and arm, and as her bruised and battered head found comfortable repose against his shoulder, sleep suddenly did not seem like such a remote possibility anymore.

“I’m a little nervous, because I’ve never shared a bed with royalty before,” he said teasingly.

“I’m sure it isn’t exactly a fantasy come true.” Filanna sighed and closed her eyes. “Tell me one more thing, Haldir. Was my brother polite and obliging to you today?”

“Is the prince ever anything but those things?” There was amusement in Haldir’s voice. “Why do you ask me such a question?”

She smiled involuntarily. “Legolas likes to pretend that he doesn’t have a care in the world, but in his heart he is just like our father-- caring and protective, almost to a fault. He might feel compelled to seek reassurance that you are... worthy of my regard.”

“He is welcome to do so. I have nothing to hide.” Haldir paused. “Don’t worry about these things, Filanna, and focus on your recovery instead. If you follow the healer’s instructions, chances are that your wrist will be fully functional again in three to four weeks.”

She groaned softly. “I pray that the Valar will give me the patience. I dread having to stay in bed the next couple of days, but I suppose I’ll manage it as long as I have distraction. I just wish I could get up briefly to visit Mithrenfin.”

“I know,” Haldir said. “But while you are on bed rest, I will be your eyes and ears in the stables and keep you apprised of his condition.”

“That is very kind of you, Haldir, but I am not sure if I can accept such a kindness. A Marchwarden of Lórien surely has better things to do with his time.”

“As a matter of fact, princess, I have a lot of time on my hands these days and will be glad for the opportunity to make myself useful.” His fingers squeezed her shoulder gently. “Don’t waste your breath on further protests, and try to swallow that pride of yours. There is no shame in accepting a little help when it’s offered.”

“Very well, Haldir.” Filanna smiled. “I have already been stripped of my mobility and my dignity, why not my pride as well?”

“Things aren’t as bleak as they seem,” Haldir said lightly. “Your mobility, at least, will be restored to you.”

xxx

True to his word, Haldir made for the stables early the following morning, hoping to find out more about Mithrenfin’s condition. He tried to find Felegron first, but when he failed to do so, made directly for Mithrenfin’s stall instead. He paused briefly at the neighbouring box to exchange a greeting with Patch, who recognized him from the day before and came forward to ask for some attention. Haldir petted the friendly stallion a few moments, smiling as he did so. It was really quite amusing that both Filanna and Legolas rode a horse that was so like them in temperament, for Mithrenfin’s trust and affection were just as painstakingly won as his mistress’s, and his moods just as mercurial.

It wasn’t until he reached the door to Mithrenfin’s stall that he realized there was already someone inside, a white-haired ellon who sat on his haunches in front of the grey stallion. At first, Haldir thought it to be the veterinary healer and he paused so as not to disturb, until he saw that the ellon was in fact wearing the farrier’s apron.

“Glamion.” He took a step forward, frowning with displeasure at his brother’s nemesis. “What in the name of all the Valar are you doing here?”

“Hush.” Glamion shot an annoyed glance over his shoulder. “All the world need not hear you, Marchwarden. My presence here is unbidden, and I haven’t exactly been in Felegron’s good graces since my little heart-to-heart with the princess.”

“How inconvenient for you,” Haldir said without a trace of sympathy. “Perhaps you should have thought of that before you laid a hand on her.”

Glamion rose to his feet slowly, turning around with a superior, contemptuous smile on his face. “Oh, you’re just itching to give me a piece of your mind about that, aren’t you? In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t done so before now. Was it at the lady’s bidding that you have let my offenses against her slide? If so, she has an even stronger hold on you than I thought.”

Haldir ignored the other elf’s taunting. “I am warning you for the last time, Glamion. Stay away from her. You have enough enemies as it is, what do you have to gain from making another? Filanna has done nothing to upset you, unless you find offense in the fact that she has made more friends here in a few months’ time than you have in your entire life.”

“Friends?” Glamion snorted. “Who needs those? I make my own happiness, Marchwarden, I don’t depend on others to do that for me. I was taught that lesson a long time ago.” He crossed his arms, smirking suddenly. “I’ll be honest with you, Haldir. When you first started eyeballing that grey little mouse, I thought you had lost your mind. She is of illustrious lineage, but other than that I could see nothing remotely interesting about her. Having been introduced to her right fist, however, I have to say my respect for her has grown somewhat. It seems that the mouse has something of a lioness in her, and I like that. If she uses some of that fire between the sheets as well, you might actually have struck gold, and you will be the envy of Caras Galadhon because you got to her first.”

Haldir gritted his teeth in irritation. “Rein in your disrespectful tongue, Glamion. My patience is wearing thin."

“Don’t be a hypocrite, Marchwarden,” Glamion retorted. “Do you really expect me to believe that you and your kind don’t use that sort of language amongst each other? I’ve known for a long time that you believe yourselves to be better than everyone else, but this beats all.” He paused, his dark eyes measuring Haldir across the stall door. “My brothers are wardens, did you know that?”

Surprised that the usually private Glamion would voluntarily disclose even such a basic snippet of information about himself, Haldir swallowed his annoyance with some difficulty. “No, I was not aware.”

“I can’t say that surprises me. We aren’t exactly close, my brothers and I.” Glamion smirked wryly. “I don’t imagine they’ll be boasting about the fact that they are related to me.”

Haldir’s curiosity was, despite everything, piqued. “What are their names?”

“Actually, I’m done sharing.” Glamion leaned down, sliding his hand down Mithrenfin’s front leg. “Instead, why don’t you tell me how this came about? My understanding is that you were there when it happened.”

“I don’t see how that is any of your business,” Haldir said. “You even said it yourself, you are not supposed to be here.”

Glamion sighed. “You may not like me very much, Haldir, but I _am_ a farrier and a capable one at that. I have more expertise on horse feet than anyone else in this city. Before you throw me out, try and consider the possibility that I could be an asset, difficult though that may be.”

Haldir weighed the matter in his mind for a moment or two. He wasn't keen on the idea of involving Glamion, whom he did not trust in the slightest, but his professional reputation was indeed impeccable. The mere fact that Mithrenfin tolerated the farrier in his box spoke for itself. Hoping fervently that he wouldn’t come to regret it, Haldir decided to give Glamion this one chance. “He fell when he stepped in an old rabbit hole during gallop. He got to his feet by himself, but he showed signs of lameness immediately afterwards.”

“Describe the hole to me,” Glamion said. “Was it deep and vertical, or did it curve immediately to the side? Were there hard or sharp surfaces inside?”

“I don’t know,” Haldir grudgingly admitted. “I didn’t examine the site that closely.”

“You should always do so.” This was an area in which Glamion’s expertise far outweighed Haldir’s, and he clearly enjoyed that fact tremendously. Opening the stall door he said, “I need to see his gait. Lead him out into the corridor and walk him up and down a few times.”

Haldir, who didn’t much like being given orders by Glamion, hesitated to comply, just for a moment, but long enough for Glamion to notice.

“Go on, Marchwarden,” he taunted. “You’re here, and you are obviously not going to leave me alone with this horse, so you might as well make yourself useful.”

Haldir relented without a word, remembering what he had said to Filanna about swallowing pride the night before and inwardly smirking at the irony of the situation. As he led an unusually meek and cooperative Mithrenfin up and down the corridor, Glamion observed and gave instructions once or twice, until he had seen enough.

“Well?” Haldir asked impatiently when Glamion spent another few minutes examining the injured leg up close. “Let’s hear your findings, Glamion.”

“There is no way to be completely certain,” Glamion said without looking up, “but I suspect a fracture of the pedal bone, the bottommost bone of the leg. When he stepped into that hole, the sole of the hoof likely landed on an uneven surface, like a rock or perhaps a tree root. Especially during gallop, when the legs take turns supporting the horse’s full body weight, this can cause severe trauma. In a sense, I’d say he was lucky to break only one bone and not several.”

“What does that mean?” Haldir asked, trying not to show how alarmed he was. “Can it be treated?”

“Box rest,” Glamion replied, “at least three months of it, depending on how well he heals, but even after that time his exercise will have to be limited and carefully monitored for at least three months more. The bone must get proper time to heal, or it will remain a weak spot for the rest of his life. In his case, I think a protective shoe might also prove useful, as he is of the rambunctious type and likely to get restless during his confinement. If he decides to start putting his energy into vandalizing his box, he will without a doubt injure himself further unless we immobilise the foot completely.”

Haldir looked doubtful. “And how do you plan to achieve this?”

“I’ll have to think about that. Give me some time.” Glamion rose to his feet, slapping his thighs. “In the meantime, I need you to put in a good word for me with Felegron. I need access to the horse, and like I said, he doesn’t think too kindly of me at the moment.”

“I’m not sure what you think I can do about that,” Haldir said evenly. “I have no authority here.”

“Don’t pretend to be modest, Haldir. It isn’t very convincing.” Glamion smirked. “Just make sure that Felegron stays out of my hair, all right? I don’t need him breathing down my neck, nor anyone else for that matter, so... let’s keep this between us.”

“That is impossible,” Haldir said. “The veterinary staff needs to know what you are doing, as does Filanna. Mithrenfin is her horse, you can’t lay a finger on him without her authorization.”

“Fine.” Glamion gestured impatiently. “Tell her, then, but leave me out of it. Fil- the princess doesn’t need to know that I am involved.”

“If you think she won’t find out, Glamion, you are astoundingly naive. Why are you so intent on keeping the truth from her, anyway? I am sure she will be grateful for your efforts.”

“I don’t need anyone’s gratitude, Marchwarden,” Glamion scathed. “I care about the horse, nothing else. I am doing this for his benefit only. Understood?”

Haldir nodded curtly. “Understood.”

Glamion started to turn away, but paused. “So... how does the princess fare after all of this? She didn’t look too well yesterday.”

Haldir gazed at the other elf incredulously, but Glamion did not make eye contact. “A mild concussion and a sprained wrist,” he said, deciding that there was no harm in telling the truth. “All things considered, she has been very fortunate.”

“Good.” Glamion nodded curtly. “I’m glad.”

Haldir watched Glamion with a sharp eye as the farrier led Mithrenfin back into his stall. His instinct told him that something wasn’t quite right, but then, it wasn’t unusual for him to feel that way when Glamion was near. The elf was dangerous like a snake, and the fact that he was acting in a relatively civil manner right now only made Haldir more wary of him. Even if his concern for the horse was sincere, Haldir could not help but suspect an ulterior motive behind Glamion’s actions, altruistic though they might seem. Glamion would have to be watched. Where there was smoke, there was usually fire, and Haldir – with the surety of one who has learned to trust his instinct – could definitely smell something burning.


	21. Pillow Talk

Filanna had never realized how many friends she had until she was indisposed and confined to a bed. The news of her accident quickly did the rounds, and on the very first morning they all came to visit in small groups, bringing little gifts and attentions to cheer her up. Gwenél, Mereniel and Aelwen brought pastry and fresh fruit from the market, Inis a lovely bouquet of wildflowers, which soon filled the room with the heady scent of lavender. Drauglan presented her with several drawings he had made, including a portrait of a large grey stallion not dissimilar to Mithrenfin, for which Filanna thanked him with a firm – but one-armed – hug. Felegron and several of her coworkers also visited, and even the Lady Galadriel came and sat with Filanna for a half hour. Her gift was a small, beautifully illustrated volume of legends and folk tales from Celeborn’s personal library, which Filanna accepted blushing and stammering.

“I see that mine isn’t the first offering,” Galadriel said conversationally, with a glance at the cluttered bedside cabinet.

Filanna’s blush deepened. “It seems that I am quite popular these days.”

Galadriel joined her hands in her lap, fixing her kind azure gaze on Filanna’s face. “It has been a while since we spoke, but I hear that Felegron is very pleased with your work at the stables. And I believe that he does not give such praise easily.”

“The work suits me. I enjoy it very much.” Taking this rare opportunity to convey the depth of her gratitude to the Lady of Light, Filanna went on, “I want to thank you again for giving me the opportunity, my lady. I could never do this sort of work in Mirkwood-- it would be heavily frowned upon.” She glanced at her bandaged wrist. “Unfortunately, after my mishap, work will be out of the question for a while.”

The Lady nodded sympathetically. “Unfortunate indeed, but the position will still be there once you are recovered, and the warden selections will keep you well distracted and entertained until then.”

Filanna cracked a smile. “So I hear from many people. The event seems to be on everyone’s lips these days.”

“Many consider it to be something to look forward to,” the Lady said. “It isn’t a celebration for the wardens alone, but for all Galadhrim-- males, females and children alike. There will be many things to see and do. I am sure that you and your brother will have a good time.”

Filanna chuckled at that. “My brother can have a good time any day of the year, but I do not doubt that he’ll make the most of the opportunity.” She was silent for a moment or two, gathering her courage for what she was about to say next. “My lady, did you know that Haldir was with me at the time of the accident?”

“Yes, I have heard that.”

“He... he took very good care of me.” Filanna pointed at the bandage around her head. “I had a cut in my forehead, which he stitched right there in the field. He knew exactly what to do, and he had all the necessary supplies with him.”

Galadriel smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me. It is a well-known fact that Haldir doesn’t like to be caught unprepared. It is regrettable that you were injured, but you were in good company when it happened.”

“I realize that. And it makes me wonder...” Filanna bit her lip, not sure how to proceed. “My lady, Inis told me that there is some debate as to whether all wardens should be able to perform emergency procedures like that.”

“Yes, indeed.” Galadriel straightened her shoulders slightly. “Haldir is one of the most outspoken advocates for that cause, but the path he has ventured on is not without its hurdles. No consensus has been reached yet, as far as I know.”

Filanna picked at the sheets. “Forgive my impertinence, but isn’t there something you can do? To... help the process along?”

It was a bold question, but if Galadriel was taken aback by it, she was gracious enough not to show it. “What exactly would you like me to do, Filanna?”

Filanna blushed, feeling deeply uncomfortable, but she had to go on despite her embarrassment. “Perhaps you could speak to the opposition, make them change their mind. Unless... you aren’t supportive of the cause, of course.”

“I am supportive, but that is beside the point.” Galadriel smiled kindly as she explained, “Celeborn and I do not reign over Lórien as dictators, Filanna. Our role here is primarily an advisory one; the Galadhrim may come to us for guidance and counsel, but we only intervene when absolutely necessary.” The Lady paused. “But if you feel strongly about this, why don’t you speak to the opposing parties yourself?”

“Oh no,” Filanna said hastily, “I couldn’t do that, my lady. It wouldn’t be right. My meddling would probably do more bad than good.”

“I see. And why is that?”

“Because... I am not good with words, at all.” Filanna gave a fleeting smile. “Not when it really matters. When you speak, people pay attention, but it has never been like that for me. As soon as I get the least bit nervous, I start choking on my own words and completely lose the ability to form proper sentences. And besides that, I am a stranger here. What business is it of mine to meddle in the affairs of the Galadhrim?”

Galadriel smiled. “You are too modest, Filanna. Have you forgotten that Celeborn and I were also once strangers in Lórien? We consider it our home now, but neither of us was born here.”

Filanna looked sheepish. “I hadn’t thought about that, but it still isn’t quite the same thing. The Galadhrim consider you one of their own; they listen to you, respect you.”

“That may be true now, but it wasn’t necessarily the case when Celeborn and I first took up residence here,” Galadriel said. “If you want people to respect you, Filanna, you have to give them a reason to. If you have something to say, make them listen. Why don’t you try it? You might actually surprise yourself.”

Filanna scratched absent-mindedly at her head bandage, irritated by the itch it was giving her. “I will think on what you said, my lady. I just don’t know if I am brave enough to stick my hand inside a hornets’ nest. And even if I am, it is unlikely that I will accomplish what Haldir has tried to achieve for years.”

They continued to converse for some time after that, until the Lady finally rose. “I will take my leave now. Have a speedy recovery, Filanna, and remember, my door is always open.”

As she watched Galadriel glide out of the room, Filanna caught herself wishing that some of that elegance and beauty would rub off on her. The Lady moved as though she was weightless, like smoke; one could not imagine her doing such an ungraceful thing as falling off a horse and spraining a joint.

The next visitor was Legolas, who brought her some clean clothes as well as a few other helpful things from her talan, such as a hairbrush, books and writing supplies.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to bring this,” Legolas said as he held up the worn notebook Filanna used as her journal. “I didn’t know you still keep that silly diary, Filly.”

“I haven’t written a word in weeks, actually.” Filanna gave her brother a suspicious look. “You haven’t read it, have you?”

Legolas snorted. “I gave up reading your diary eons ago. As I recall, it didn’t make for very interesting reading.” He opened the journal at a random page, mischief sparking in his eye. “However, I do wonder if recent entries have become a little more titillating.”

Filanna laughed and held out her good hand. “Don’t be a bully, Legolas. Give it here.”

“Dear diary,” Legolas crooned teasingly, holding the journal just out of her reach, “today I saw Haldir again. How handsome he is! He makes my maidenly little heart go pitter-patter.”

Filanna squealed indignantly and made another lunge for the notebook while Legolas quickly stepped aside, laughing. “Oh, you are wicked! I wouldn’t write such a thing in a million years and you know it.”

Legolas gave her the journal, still chuckling. “I didn’t read a single word, Filly. Your secrets – if indeed you keep any from your most beloved brother – are completely safe.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Filanna put the journal in the drawer of her nightstand and went on in a more serious tone, “I want to thank you for what you did last night, Legolas. It was kind of you to volunteer.”

“I was happy to be useful. Is there any news of Mithrenfin’s condition?”

“Haldir said he would come as soon as he could, but he hasn’t been by yet.” She sighed. “Legolas, I need to ask you something, but I require an honest answer and you mustn’t tease me.”

Legolas nodded expectantly. “Ask away.”

“I...” She struggled for the right words. “I suppose I just need you to tell me if I am doing the right thing. I cannot think clearly on these matters anymore, and you are a good judge of character. Do you think that Haldir and I are well matched?”

Legolas smiled. “The Marchwarden is a hard nut to crack, but I like him well enough. And he is obviously stuck on you, which proves that he has excellent taste. I can hardly wait to see our sisters’ faces when I tell them that little Filly has caught the biggest fish in the pond.”

Filanna giggled and rolled her eyes. “For shame, Legolas, you make it sound like Haldir fell into the hands of a wicked seductress. I did not even like him at first.”

“And I am sure you made that perfectly clear.” Legolas leaned down to drop a gentle kiss on Filanna’s forehead. “I don’t know him well, Filly, but I do know that you don’t change your mind lightly. Don’t be afraid to trust your instinct; that is the best advice I can give you.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Now, is there anything else I can do for you, little sister?”

Gazing gratefully into her brother’s face, Filanna was about to shake her head when suddenly, like sunlight bursting into a room with the opening of the shutters, an idea came to her-- an exciting idea that caused her heart to start pounding. “As a matter of fact,” she said slowly, “there is.”

xxx

As he stood on the porch of Arphain’s talan, knocking on the front door to announce his presence, Haldir became acutely aware of how rarely he saw his peers in the informal setting of their own homes. He and Arphain were equal in rank and had known each other for many years; they respected each other, but neither considered the other a close personal friend. In fact, such friends were few in Haldir’s life, and there weren’t many people he felt he could truly confide in. Until recently, he had sometimes used his bed partners as a sounding board for the things that weighed on his mind, because they were good and understanding listeners and they meant well by him; but to his regret, swearing off all intimacy also meant losing the listening ear those ellith had offered him when he needed one. Ironically, he almost missed their companionship and the pillow talk more than he did the sex.

The door was opened by Arphain’s wife Beliel, whose face lit up with surprise. “Haldir, how lovely to see you.”

“Likewise, Beliel.” Haldir’s gaze was drawn from her radiant face to her conspicuously protruding belly. “Well, it seems that congratulations are in order. I did not know that you were expecting.”

“Ah, well...” Beliel put her hand on her stomach, smiling. “My husband isn’t one to talk much about personal things, as you know. Are you here to see him?”

“If it is not inconvenient.”

“Not at all.” She stepped back from the doorway. “He is in the study, preparing for the big event. I’m sure you have done a lot of that yourself lately.”

Haldir nodded distractedly as he stepped across the threshold. The truth was that he hadn’t spent half as much time preparing for the warden selections as he normally would have, and once again, it was all due to Filanna. Indirectly, she was even the reason he was here right now.

As he entered the study, Haldir found Arphain seated at his desk, leafing through a stack of papers in front of him. He too seemed surprised to see Haldir, but he gave a jovial smile as he leaned back in his chair. “Haldir, good day. Did we have an appointment that I completely forgot about?”

“No,” Haldir replied, “I came uninvited, hoping you have a moment or two to spare.”

“Of course I do.” The two clasped forearms in greeting. “Have a seat, tell me what I can do for you.”

Haldir sat down smiling. “Let me start by offering you my congratulations on your blessed circumstances. Beliel is looking very well. When is the child due?”

“Not for another three moons.” Arphain intertwined his fingers and twiddled his thumbs. “It is our first, so naturally we are both excited and a little terrified.”

“I can only imagine.” Haldir nodded at the papers on Arphain’s desk. “I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

Arphain shook his head. “Not at all. I was merely going through the list of contenders once more. There are some promising entries this year, don’t you agree?”

“Certainly,” Haldir said, trying to suppress the twinge of guilt he felt thinking of his own negligence regarding the warden selections. He decided to come straight to the point. “You may be surprised, Arphain, but I came here with some questions regarding Glamion, the farrier. Do you know him?”

Arphain rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Yes, I know who he is, although my dealings with him have been few and brief.”

“I recently learned that he has two older brothers who are both wardens,” Haldir said. “Do you have an idea who they might be?”

“Hmm.” Arphain pondered the question for a moment or two. “There are many siblings amongst the wardens, as you know, but I believe that Rawain and Perchel are the ones you are looking for. I have heard them mentioning a younger brother on occasion, although I didn’t get the impression that it was a particularly loving relationship.”

“Do you know the reason?”

Arphain shrugged. “The ellyn of that bloodline have protected our borders for generations. I believe the family was adamant that Glamion try out for warden as well, but as far as I know, he never did. Families have fallen apart for lesser reasons than that.” He paused. “Might I inquire why all this is of interest to you?”

“It’s a long story,” Haldir said with a sigh. He went on to quickly explain the festering rivalry between Orophin and Glamion, as well as the more recent developments which had led to Glamion voluntarily offering his time and expertise for Mithrenfin’s benefit.

“Couldn’t it be possible that Glamion just wants to do right by the horse, regardless of the bad blood between you?” Arphain asked when Haldir finished. “I am no friend of his, but he does have a reputation to uphold. I find it unlikely that he would squander his good name for the sake of revenge, especially at the expense of an innocent animal.”

“You may be right,” Haldir acknowledged, though he still looked doubtful.

“On the other hand,” Arphain went on, “your instincts are seldom off the mark, Haldir. If you feel that Glamion may have a hidden agenda, it can’t hurt to watch him a little more closely than you normally would.”

“I am planning to,” Haldir said. “If only I knew what I should be looking for.”

There was a soft knock on the door, and seconds later Beliel appeared carrying a tray with a carafe of lemonade and two glasses. “Sorry to disturb, but I thought our guest might like something cold to drink.” She shared an amused glance with Haldir when Arphain leapt to his feet and took the tray from his pregnant wife’s hands. “Can I offer you anything else, Haldir? I am going to make some sandwiches, perhaps you would like some?”

“That is very kind, Beliel, but it isn’t my lunchtime yet,” Haldir said. “Besides, I wasn’t planning on monopolizing your husband’s time for very long. I must to the healers’ quarters shortly and visit Filanna.”

“My wife has an almost constant hankering for food these days,” Arphain said with a laugh. He put his arms around Beliel’s bulging waist and gave her a playful kiss on the cheek, while Haldir watched with a sudden feeling of wistfulness he couldn’t quite place.

“I heard what happened to princess Filanna,” Beliel said once she had disengaged from her husband’s embrace. “That poor thing! How is she doing?”

“She is on bed rest, which isn’t easy for her,” Haldir replied. “I intend to keep her company when I can.”

“She’ll appreciate that, I am sure.” Beliel smiled. “You feel quite strongly about this elleth, don’t you?”

“Don’t answer that,” Arphain said before Haldir could respond. “Whatever you tell her will find its way back to her lady friends, and to the rumor mill by extension.”

“That is not true,” Beliel objected. “It was merely my own curiosity I sought to satisfy. I meant no offense.”

“There is none taken,” Haldir said, smiling. “It is no secret that Filanna and I have spent quite some time together lately. Each may draw their own conclusions from that fact, but I will neither deny nor confirm them.”

“Say no more.” Beliel turned to leave the room. “I will wrap a few sandwiches for you to take with you. One should never show up at a lady’s sickbed with empty hands.”

xxx

Haldir was glad to find Filanna awake upon arrival. She was sitting up in bed, her left hand propped up on pillows as before, while the other flipped through a small book in her lap. The bedside table was cluttered with various items that had not been there the night before, and she had changed into a different set of clothes. He could see that she had tried to brush her hair, with less than stellar results due to the bandage around her head. For some reason, it made him smile.

“I was told today that visiting the indisposed without a gift is bad etiquette,” he jested, nodding at the nightstand. “I can see that those before me have honoured decorum.”

“Yes, I am being spoiled,” she said, smiling at him as he approached the bed. “Even the Lady Galadriel was here a few hours ago.”

“Well, here is my offering.” He placed the paper bag with sandwiches on the bed. “Courtesy of my friend Beliel, who seems to think that you aren’t being fed properly. She sends her best wishes. I hope you have an appetite.”

“It smells delicious,” Filanna said as she opened the bag and peeked inside. “Would you like one? There is enough in here for the both of us.”

“Later perhaps.” Haldir sat down on the visitor’s chair. “First, let me tell you about Mithrenfin.”

He had long debated within himself as to whether he should be honest with her about Glamion’s involvement. He did not like having to lie to her, and he certainly did not feel that he owed Glamion anything. But she was such a worrier by nature, and he did not want to give her anything to worry about, especially while she was on bed rest. In the end, lying by omission seemed the lesser of two evils, so he told her exactly what was going on with her horse and what was being done about it, without ever mentioning Glamion’s name.

“There is a good chance that he will recover completely, Filanna,” he said in an attempt to raise her spirits. “We just have to wait and hope for the best.”

“I hate waiting,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t have the patience for it. But realistically, I suppose I don’t have any other option. And the most important thing is that he recovers, regardless of how long it takes.”

Haldir nodded, looking around for something to distract her with. “What were you reading?”

“Oh.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “It’s my diary. Legolas brought it this morning. I wasn’t actually reading it, just going through some old entries.”

“I didn’t know that you keep a diary.”

“I used to. Now... not so much.” Filanna fingered the worn leather cover absent-mindedly. “I have a strong feeling to burn it, actually. It makes for an embarrassing read, and I hardly recognize the elleth who wrote it.”

“I think that would be a waste.” Haldir smiled. “Years from now, you might want to go back and reminisce about your meeting with the Galadhrim.”

“Frankly, I don’t think I’ll ever need a diary for that.” She looked up into his face, pausing several moments before saying, “Do you know that I can’t remember how we spent the afternoon yesterday? I remember what happened after I fell, but hardly anything before that.”

“Concussion can cause loss of memory,” Haldir said. “It is a shame, because I believe we both had a good time before things went awry. You flirted with me, quite shamelessly I might add, we had a small picnic near a rivulet and you suggested we head for the grasslands, which initially I did not want to do, but you persuaded me quite easily. You even begged me to kiss you.”

“I did not!” Filanna laughed, punching his arm. “I am sure I did not.”

“Well, not exactly.” Haldir chuckled. “You asked, very politely. I could only oblige.”

“Was it a nice kiss?”

“Actually, I think it may have been our best yet.” Almost unconsciously, Haldir leaned a little closer to her. “It was the kind of kiss that can’t be rushed. You had your arms around my neck, I had one around your waist, and our faces were almost at the same level. It was quite a long kiss, temperate yet intimate. It felt very good to kiss you like that.”

Filanna sighed. “It sounds wonderful. Valar, I wish I could remember.” She grew thoughtful then, a little nervous, and he could see her preparing to say something of importance.

“I have been thinking,” she said eventually. She was trying hard to appear casual, but by doing so she achieved the exact opposite, and he wondered with some amusement what this could be about. “When this is all over – when I am recovered, that is – I think that... you and I should start sleeping together. I mean, if you want to.”

Haldir had some difficulty keeping a straight face, not because her awkward proposition was in any way laughable, but because it was unexpected and he did not want her to know how it affected his pulse. “Well, I agree. Wholeheartedly.”

Her eyes met his, gauging. “You do?”

“I’m ready when you are. I’ve told you that before. So if you are sure that the time has come, who am I to argue?”

She nodded slowly, and this time he could have sworn that he saw a little mischief sparking in her eyes. “Would I like it?”

“You would love it. I’d personally see to that.”

“But it will be painful, won’t it?”

He thought about his answer for a moment. “It usually is, the first time, in some cases more so than in others. But never in my long life have I met an elleth who regretted it afterwards.”

She gave him a sly smile. “I suppose that says something about you.”

He returned the smile, wondering where this shy elleth had suddenly learned how to flirt. “Perhaps it does.”

Filanna sighed then, laying her head back against the cushions. “I am sorry I made you go to the grasslands against your will, Haldir. If I had listened to you, none of this would have happened.”

“Don’t apologize on my behalf,” he said. “I enjoyed myself, riding like that with you. I would change nothing, except the way it all ended.”

“Indeed.” Her hand moved across the bed, reaching for his. “I do thank you for tending to me so diligently, Haldir. I know I’ve said it before, but I can’t emphasize it enough. Your visits are something to look forward to.”

“Well, of course it’s all part of my master plan,” he said, winking, “to charm you into submission.”

“Of course.” She giggled. “Be careful, though. I might get a little too used to it, and I know that you won’t always be around to coddle me.”

He shook his head. “My time isn’t always my own, but it is right now. I would like to spend it sitting here with you for a while, if you don’t mind.”

“No, I would like that,” Filanna said. “Perhaps you can tell me a story, something about yourself. You still owe me the story of what happened to your parents, if you feel like telling it.”

“I will tell it, if you truly feel like hearing it.”

“I do.” She squeezed his hand for emphasis. “I want to know of the things that are important to you, Haldir. And I am a very good listener, who could do with a little distraction these days.”

“Perhaps we can strike a bargain,” he said lightly. “I tell you the story about my parents and in return, say, you read me a passage from your diary.”

She looked shocked for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Oh, well played! Just for that remark, I think I may have to burn the damned thing after all, lest it falls into the wrong hands. What is it about diaries anyway, that makes them such irresistible reading material to brothers and males in general?”

Haldir smiled. “I think it stems from an age-old desire to gain a better understanding of the other sex. The feminine mind is this world’s most fascinating enigma.”

She gave him a doubtful look. “Well, you won’t find any answers in my diary. Half the time, I don’t understand my own sex either.”

“Pity.” Haldir sighed and then was silent for a while, not knowing where to start. “Has Orophin truly told you nothing of the circumstances of our father’s death?”

“Only that it happened in defense of Cerin Amroth, during the skirmishes following the Awaking of the Balrog in Moria. And that your mother sailed west not long thereafter.”

Haldir nodded slowly, wondering how long it had been since he last spoke of these things to anyone. “A succinct account indeed. Well then, allow me to tell you the rest of it.”


	22. Shadow Of The Past

_Shadow and flame. Of all the known terrors in the world, there was none more feared by the Elves than the Balrog, or so at least said the tales of folklore Haldir had grown up with. Of course he had never seen such a creature with his own eyes, nor did he know anyone who had, and how could one fear something completely unknown? For a long time, the Balrog had been little more than a faded memory, a mythical entity from a distant past, until it became known that the Dwarves’ greedy search for_ _mithril_ _had disturbed the ancient creature’s sleep, deep below the surface of the earth. The shadow of fear that emanated from Moria reached even into the Golden Wood, obscuring the hearts and minds of the Galadhrim. News of the demon’s awakening spread far and wide, and in the months that followed evil was drawn to the area from all corners of Middle-earth, presenting a real danger to the elven kingdom of Lothlórien. Patrol units were on high alert day and night, often confined to a diet of water and lembas because they were constantly on the move and fresh supplies were hard to come by. Communication between the different units was also difficult at times, which meant that news from the southern fences could take days to filter through to those in the north, and vice versa._

_Lórien’s defenses held for a long time, but one night, as they were trekking along the western boundaries of the forest, Haldir and his company came across a sight that chilled the blood in his very veins: bodies of elves and orcs scattered haphazardly between the trees, killed in battle and abandoned by the survivors. The stench of death was near unbearable, and even Haldir, then already hardened by experience, felt his stomach turning many times over as they searched the area for survivors, without much hope of finding any. What they did find were orc tracks leading away from the site, into the forest. Haldir was investigating the trail when one of his companions came and informed him in a tremulous tone that his father’s body had been found among the casualties._

_He hadn’t shed a tear, not that night. Gazing down at his father’s remains, Haldir only felt shock and a vague sense of wonder as he reached a grim conclusion: that all his life’s experience had somehow failed to prepare him for this. Days later, he was able to find a small glimmer of gratitude in the fact that the task of identifying the body had befallen him instead of Rúmil, whose unit was stationed elsewhere-- but in the moment itself, there was only the feeling of having been punched in the gut, and the one question that echoed around the chambers of his mind:_ _how in the world do I tell mother?_

_His companions had gathered in the vicinity, sharing in his grief but unsure how to show it. It was some time before one of them stepped forward and quietly asked the inevitable question. “Captain, what are your orders?”_

_If there ever was a moment that Haldir hated his profession, it was then and there, but somehow he managed to pull himself together and answer as a warden, rather than as a son. “There is no time to linger. An unknown number of orcs is at large in our forest, they must be tracked down and eliminated as quickly as possible. For now, cover up the bodies as best you can; we will return when possible to pay them the proper respects.”_

Halfway down one of the city’s many winding stairs, Haldir had to halt for a moment and wait for the tight feeling in his chest to subside. He had not spoken of those events in such a long time, and recounting them to Filanna had affected him more strongly than he had foreseen, but the quiet sympathy with which she had listened had provided a sense of solace that was both alien and welcome. Perhaps some wounds never fully healed, but a beautiful elleth’s smile went a long way in soothing the pain.

There hadn’t been much time to grieve his father’s passing. Lórien’s defenses had been breached, and the evil forces nearly succeeded in reaching Cerin Amroth before Haldir’s company caught up with them and initiated battle. Reinforcements did arrive eventually, tipping the scales in favour of the elves, but the victory came at a cost, as most of the elven settlement was destroyed in a blazing fire. No innocents were harmed, however, and the hill that had offered them refuge in their hour of need became the site where soon thereafter the foundations for Caras Galadhon were laid. The Galadhrim licked their wounds and moved on, despite being left leaderless by King Amroth, who had gone in pursuit of his true love Nimrodel. There was no heir to the throne, but Celeborn and Galadriel, who had visited the Golden Wood on several occasions, learned of the precarious situation and came to Lórien to generously help rebuild the elven colony from the ground up.

After almost two years of slowly succumbing to grief, Haldir’s mother made it known that she desired to sail west, together with several other ellith who had been widowed by the events at Cerin Amroth. Although her decision grieved him deeply, Haldir agreed to accompany her to the havens, for protection as well as to give her a proper send-off. In his perception, it was his responsibility as the firstborn; Orophin was too young to make the journey, and Rúmil chose not to go. Celeborn and Galadriel, who by then had made their sojourn permanent as Amroth had not returned, granted him a leave of absence, enabling him to do what had been out of his reach for a long time: seeing the world outside Lothlórien. He only wished he could have made that journey under happier circumstances.

He had told Filanna all this, but there was one thing he had left out: a conversation he had had with Celeborn on the day of his return to Lórien. It wasn’t exactly a memory that filled him with pride; he had been in a bad state of mind that day, full of bitterness, and it had led him to say things he did not want to repeat in front of her.

After learning of Haldir’s return, Celeborn had paid him a visit and made inquiries about the journey. A kind gesture, which on any other day would have been greatly appreciated, but provided about as much solace as a handful of salt rubbed into a fresh wound. However, Haldir respected the new Lord of Lórien too much to turn him away, and he had politely answered all of his questions, but Celeborn had of course perceived that it was all an act.

_“The past two years have been difficult for your family, Haldir,” Celeborn said. “It is to be expected that you are experiencing many emotions at this moment, perhaps even a little resentment towards your mother. It is nothing to be ashamed of.”_

_Haldir’s first reaction had been one of astonishment, even indignation. “Resentment? What do you-- I am not resentful of her at all. She is my mother, I love her.”_

_“Of course. You wouldn’t be feeling this way if you didn’t love her.” Celeborn regarded him attentively. “You carry much anger in you, Haldir. Anger at yourself, perhaps, because you feel that your father’s life might have been spared if only you had gotten there in time. Perhaps you feel you let your family down, that you are partly to blame for your mother’s grief. But I also think that you expected her to stay, that you hoped the love for her children would be stronger.”_

_Haldir took a few moments to gather his thoughts, unsettled by the ease with which Celeborn peeled away the layers of pretense and uncovered feelings Haldir had not wanted to acknowledge even to himself. “My lord Celeborn-”_

_“There is no need to address me so formally.” Celeborn gave a little smile. “Galadriel and I have no desire to claim King Amroth’s throne or title.”_

_“I swore my allegiance to Amroth a long time ago, but he threw it to the wind when he chose that_ _elleth_ _over his people,” Haldir said harshly. “I will happily offer it to someone more worthy.”_

_Celeborn nodded slowly. “Do you see what I mean? You expect the very best, Haldir, of yourself as well as everyone around you. Am I not right when I say that you are disappointed in your mother? You expected more of her, did you not?”_

_Haldir shrugged, meeting Celeborn’s eyes squarely as he replied, “I only know that if I had a child of Orophin’s age, I would not leave him under any circumstances. It is not fair that he must lose both his parents in less than two years.”_

_“I respect that,” Celeborn said. “And I am sure that it was the hardest decision your mother has ever had to make, but she must have felt that continuing her life here in Lórien, where every pebble and every leaf holds a thousand memories, would have been too painful. She chose a new beginning, a clean slate. As for Amroth, he did what he could to retain that which was most valuable to him. He may have lost your respect by doing so, but we sometimes do the strangest things for love. You can try to understand, but you cannot fully know until you’ve found the one who completes your soul.”_

_Haldir was impassive. “If love can wreak that kind of havoc, if it can tear a mother away from her children and cause a lord of honour to abandon his people in their hour of greatest need, it is not something I ever want to experience for myself. I would rather remain unattached my whole life than be stripped of my morals and credibility.”_

_“I am sure that is just your grief talking. At the end of the day, all we really want is to love and be loved in return.” Celeborn gave Haldir’s shoulder a companionable squeeze. “How are your brothers handling all this, if you don’t mind me asking?”_

_Haldir shrugged. “Rúmil, hard to say. He lives in a world of his own, finding solace in his books and his poetry. He doesn’t share his innermost feelings, at least not with me. And Orophin has all the elasticity and resilience of youth, which is his fortune. He has stayed with family friends while I was gone, but from now on he can live with me until he is old enough to own his own talan. I have already made the arrangements.”_

_Celeborn nodded. “Has he chosen a profession yet? Does he have a calling?”_

_Haldir hesitated briefly. “The last time I spoke with him, he seemed to have his mind set on becoming a warden.”_

_“Not too surprising, I suppose.” Celeborn smiled. “It is a noble ambition, shared by many young lads.”_

_“He isn’t of proper age yet.” Haldir’s face was set in grim determination. “And until he is, I will do everything in my power to persuade him otherwise.”_

“Haldir? Are you all right?”

Snapping out of his reminiscences with a jolt, Haldir suddenly became aware that minutes had gone by since he paused in the middle of a stair, and that he still stood there like a fool with a vacant look in his eyes. The face in front of him wasn’t Celeborn’s, but the worried expression upon it was almost exactly the same.

“I’m fine, Inis,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have just been revisiting some old griefs today, that is all.”

“You shouldn’t do that too often,” she advised him, smiling. “What is that old saying? Your shadow will always fall behind you if you keep your face turned towards the sun.”

He smiled back at her, noticing the basket on her arm. “On your way to the market?”

She nodded. “Join me, if you don’t mind scouting for fabrics. You look like you could use a friend.”

“Thank you, meldis, I will gladly accept some other time but not today.” He paused. “Can I ask you something personal, though?”

Although she seemed surprised, Inis nodded again. “Of course.”

“Did you ever consider...” He trailed off and had to start over. “After Maenion’s passing, did the thought of sailing west ever occur to you?”

She thought about her answer for a moment. “No, not really. Drauglan was just a babe at the time, and I didn’t want to force that kind of decision onto him. I thought he should have a chance to know the place where his father grew up. And apart from that... I suppose I just never really felt that my time here was done.”

“Thank the Valar for that.” Giving in to a spontaneous impulse, Haldir leaned down to kiss her cheek. “You are quite an inspiration, Inis. Drauglan is very lucky to have you for a mother, and I am proud to call you friend.”

Haldir very rarely said this sort of thing out loud-- a habit he would have to change, he decided when he saw Inis’s stunned, yet delighted expression.

“Thank you,” she said. “I am not sure that the compliment is entirely deserved, but I will take it all the same.”

“It was given for that purpose.” He winked and continued his way down the stair. “Happy browsing, Inis. I’m sure you’ll pick up a few good bargains.”

xxx

Changes were occurring in Lothlórien. They were small, seemingly insignificant, and Inis had initially attributed them to the upcoming warden selections, but she soon realized that there were other forces at work. It was as though the constellations over the Golden Wood had slightly shifted, causing uncharacteristic behaviour in its inhabitants. Even Haldir was clearly affected by it-- he was one of the most principled edhil she knew, but over the course of the past weeks she had watched him break habits left and right, and be happier for it. Recently, she had even felt the effects herself. She was normally so conscientious, but instead of finishing her other commissions first, she had gone to the market to browse fabrics for Legolas, which was premature to say the least. She was reluctant to admit it, but Legolas appeared to have found her weak spot – her art – and now he was all she could think about. She was inspired, artistically challenged, and although she had always loved her work, she had not felt this excited about a commission in a long time.

Choosing a colour was always the most exciting part. Inis had loved colours for as long as she could remember, and although she certainly had her favourites, it was her firm belief that there was no such thing as an ugly colour. In terms of fashion, it was all a matter of pairing a fabric to a wearer with the right complexion and hair colour, and herein lay exactly Inis’s talent. Legolas had pale skin and hair, so dark colours were to be avoided. Cornflower blue would look stunning with his eyes, but at this point she was keeping an open mind to various options. One thing was certain: it would have to be a warm colour, one that didn’t just match his appearance but his personality as well.

“Do you see anything you like, Inis?” the merchant asked after she had gone through his display of cloths for a few minutes.

“I am not sure, Darion,” she said. “It is slim pickings today, if you don’t mind me saying. Don’t you have any silks from Imladris?”

“At the moment I have only this,” he said, pointing at a roll of dark purple cloth. “I am expecting a new shipment from Imladris next week. Would you like me to put something aside for you?”

“Thank you, Darion, but I won’t know what exactly I’m looking for until I see it. I will come back next week, expecting to be impressed.”

The merchant grinned and bowed. “Impressing you is no easy feat, Inis, but I will try to rise to the challenge.”

She turned away to continue her route along the various stands, but instead found herself standing face to face with her latest model, the very subject of her thoughts. “Oh, Legolas, good day.” Although flustered by his unexpected appearance, she made a mental note of the fact that he was wearing a tunic of ivory white. The fabric was nice, and the snug fit flattered his physique, but the brass buttons were ill chosen.

“Don’t you think the purple would bring out my eyes?” he remarked teasingly, nodding at the display of fabrics behind her.

“What makes you think I am here for you?” she countered, a little miffed that he had overheard. “I haven’t settled on a particular colour for your shirt yet. I keep my mind open to all options.”

“Excellent,” he said. “Perhaps you will also keep an open mind to other things-- such as the idea of spending the day with me. All for the sake of your art, of course. Let yourself be inspired by my dashing good looks and sparkling personality.”

She pulled a face, but could not help laughing. “Valar, such arrogance. Are you actually that cocky, Legolas, or are you just trying to hide how insecure you really are?”

He smiled. “You will find out soon enough, once you get to know me.”

Inis suppressed a smile of her own. She wasn’t used to being courted in this way, but she had to admire Legolas’s tenacity, and she genuinely enjoyed his company. Perhaps the time had come for her to break a few patterns of her own. “I don’t have a day to spare,” she said truthfully, “but I can give you the next hour or so.”

“That’ll do, too.” His smile widened. “Be warned, though-- one hour of my undivided attention will only leave you wanting more in the end.”

xxx

Heading into the second night of her confinement, Filanna found that what little patience she possessed was slipping away fast. Her bruised body still ached from her fall, but her spirit was very much intact and starting to resist the trammels of a bedridden existence. She was resigned to staying another night at the healers’ quarters, but she hoped desperately that she would be allowed to get out of bed and go home the following day. It all hinged on the results of her evening exam, and so she awaited the healer’s visit with eager anticipation, praying for a positive outcome.

When the healer finally came at around eight o’clock, she started the exam with a few routine tests to ascertain how well Filanna was recovering from her concussion. When asked, Filanna answered truthfully that although some parts of her memory were still missing, she had had no more feelings of nausea, and her head only bothered her when she got out of bed to use the chamber pot.

“Have you experienced anything else unusual?” the healer asked. “Fatigue perhaps, or sudden rushes of emotion?”

“Actually, yes.” Filanna blushed as she remembered sobbing over the blood stain in Haldir’s shirt. “I have been unusually weepy since yesterday. At this point, I feel I could bawl my eyes out over a litter of kittens. How did you know?”

The healer smiled. “It is quite common with concussion. Don’t worry, it should wear off soon enough.”

Filanna breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the Valar for that.”

The cut in her forehead was looking well; the wound had already started to heal, and there were no signs of infection. To Filanna’s great relief, the healer decided remove the bandage altogether, but only after Filanna had made a solemn promise not to pick at the stitches, no matter how badly they itched.

Filanna’s wrist was last to be examined. As the healer was removing the bandage, Legolas arrived, but in contrast to his brusque entrance the day before, he quietly sat down on a chair and waited for the healer to finish the exam.

“The swelling has gone down considerably,” the healer observed as she inspected the joint with a critical eye. “One more night of ice, and I think we’ll see even more improvement in the morning.”

Hope flared in Filanna’s chest. “Do you think I’ll be well enough to go home tomorrow, then?”

“It is too early to tell. We’ll have to wait and see how things are in the morning.” The healer smiled when she saw the disappointment and frustration on Filanna’s face. “Are we not taking good care of you here?”

“Oh, it’s not that.” Filanna blushed. “I am very well cared for. I just hate being a burden, and I get bored easily. A change of scenery would be welcome.” As she looked doubtfully at her battered and bruised wrist, barely recognizing it as a part of her own body, the conversation with Haldir earlier that day crossed her mind. “Do you really think it will be fully functional again in three weeks?”

“In a bit of a hurry, aren’t you, Filly?” Legolas remarked, smirking meaningfully as though he knew why she was asking. “It isn’t even your dominant hand.”

“Be quiet,” she breathed, sending him a warning glare. “I want to know when I can go back to work, that is all.”

“Three weeks is average,” the healer said, unaware of the undercurrent in the siblings’ exchange. “It depends on a lot of things. Your wrist needs rest in order to heal, so as soon as the swelling is gone, we’ll put your arm in a sling. You will have to use that for at least several days. As the pain starts to subside, you can gradually increase use and movement of the joint, but all within reason. Your body is valuable-- you shouldn’t be careless with it, and you shouldn’t think too lightly of the recovery process.”

“Hear, hear,” Legolas said. “Words of wisdom if I ever heard any. Are you listening, Filly?”

“Spare me, Legolas.” She rolled her eyes at him. “It was a silly riding accident, not my first and probably not my last, either. It could have happened to anyone. If one of your male friends took a little tumble, I’ll bet you wouldn’t lose a moment’s sleep over it.”

“But you are not one of my male friends, you are my sister. The only sister who looks up to me and adores me, I might add. I would like to keep you around.”

Filanna had another testy response ready, but stopped herself when she caught the smile on the healer’s face. “I apologize,” she said, somewhat embarrassed. “We have spent so much time bickering that we rarely stop to think about the impression it must make on others.”

“There is no need to apologize. My brother and I are exactly the same.” The healer finished applying Filanna’s new bandage and then took her leave, saying that she would send someone with an ice pack shortly.

Filanna sighed and shifted her limbs, trying to get comfortable. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, Legolas, but I wasn’t expecting your visit tonight. I thought you would be out having a good time with a throng of silver-haired beauties.”

“There is only one silver-haired beauty I like, and she is probably putting her son to bed at this hour.” Legolas pulled his chair closer to the bed. “Besides, I did as you requested and asked a few questions left and right, gathered some information I thought you might like to hear.”

Earlier that day, she had told him what Inis had told her, about Haldir’s ambition to make instruction in emergency treatment obligatory for every warden. She had asked him to investigate who was opposing the plan and why, but she had not expected to get an answer this soon. “Gracious me, Legolas, you needn’t have been quite that quick about it.”

“As it turned out, I had a little more time on my hands today than I anticipated.” Legolas smiled. “Now, you already know how Celeborn and Galadriel came to be the rulers of Lothlórien. They are well-loved and respected, and their leadership is undisputed, but in terms of legislation and day-to-day management, the bulk of responsibility lies on the shoulders of the Council, an assembly of twelve representatives of some of the oldest families in Lothlórien. Celeborn and Galadriel meet with the Council every two months, although any council member may call for a special meeting if necessary. These meetings aren’t public affairs, but any citizen who wishes to bring a matter of importance to the attention of the Council, can do so in a variety of ways. The more urgent and relevant issues will be put on the agenda for the next meeting.”

Filanna’s spirits plummeted. It all turned out to be much more complicated than she had hoped. “But I don’t know any of those people. And I am not a citizen of Lothlórien, either.”

“Let me finish,” Legolas said. “A motion such as this needs a majority of the votes to pass, but before you can even think of presenting the case to the Council, you need to be sure that you have the backing of the healers’ guild. They are going to have to donate their time and expertise to the project, after all. Without their cooperation you are just wasting the Council’s time, and they won’t thank you for that.”

“I don’t know, Legolas.” Filanna shook her head uncertainly. “It sounds like quite an enterprise, and you know that debating isn’t exactly my strong point. If Haldir failed, how can I hope to succeed?”

“I thought you wanted to do something for Haldir, something meaningful.”

“I do, but-”

“Well, if it was easy, it wouldn’t be meaningful, now would it?”

Filanna sighed and laid her head back. “I know you are right, but... What if this is just a very bad idea?”

“It is not. You are only telling yourself that because you are having second thoughts and need a reason not to go through with it.”

She shot him a half-annoyed, half-amused look. “I hate that you know me so well.”

“Inconvenient, isn’t it?” Legolas smiled sweetly. “Listen, Filly, you can either give it a try or spend the rest of your life wondering whether you might actually have succeeded. I will help you, but you are going to have to do most of the work, because you should get all the credit in case of success.”

Filanna remained silent for a minute or two, wondering what in the world she was about to get herself into. “Was Haldir’s proposition ever voted upon?”

“I don’t think so. Like I said, the support of the healers’ guild is crucial, and he never managed to secure that. If we want a chance at success, this is where we have to start.”

Filanna bit her bottom lip pensively. “So, what do you propose?”

“I have already spoken to the head of the guild,” Legolas said, “to test the waters, so to speak. He is a decent fellow, a little self-important, but I think he’ll listen to reason. I told him that you have some interesting new light to shed on the case.”

“You told him _what_?” She stared at her brother in shock. “Are you mad? I have no idea what to say to this person!”

“Well, then start thinking hard. We have some time to come up with a strategy.”

“Elbereth.” Filanna gave a sigh of aggravation. “Next time I find myself considering to ask for your help, I’ll be sure to think twice about it. Once you sink your teeth into something, you don’t let go, do you?”

Legolas shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t ask for help very often, Filly. When you do, it must be with good reason. Frankly, I am not surprised that you are getting cold feet-- that is why I wasted no time putting things into motion.” He flicked Filanna’s nose teasingly. “So instead of complaining and whining about the fact that you have to spend a few lousy days in bed, why don’t you use that time for something more productive and start putting together a plan?”

She made a face, but let his thinly veiled insult slide. “Well,” she said after giving it a moment’s thought, “preparation is everything, as Ada likes to say. So, before doing anything else, I suppose I need to get access to the city archives.”

“There you go.” Legolas crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair triumphantly. “It is a start. I will get on it first thing tomorrow.”


	23. Odd One Out

As the days went by, Filanna gradually learned to take the discomforts and limitations of her injury in her stride. After two days and three nights at the healers’ telain, she was finally deemed fit enough to be discharged, and she was sent away with instructions to carry her arm in a sling until further notice, and to return in a week to have her stitches removed. Glad to be free in her doings and goings once again, she wasted no time in paying Mithrenfin an overdue visit. As Haldir had told her, the large stallion had been put on absolute box rest and shod with a special shoe that was to protect his injured hoof and help it heal more quickly. It looked custom-made, and Filanna observed her horse’s movements for some time, quite pleased with what she saw. When she spoke with Felegron later and asked him whom she should thank for a job well done, he looked quite embarrassed and reluctantly replied that Glamion had done most of the work.

“I wasn’t too keen on the idea of getting him involved, to tell you the truth, but Haldir rightfully pointed out that, for all his flaws, Glamion is still the best farrier we have. We decided to give him a chance, but... has Haldir not kept you apprised of all the facts? I assumed that he would.”

“He has done exactly that,” Filanna said, sighing. “He just failed to mention that Glamion was involved, and I think I know why. But it was the right decision, Felegron. I am surprised, that is all.”

Regrettably she saw very little of Haldir those days. With the opening ceremony now only days away, he and his peers made long hours preparing for the grand event, while Filanna had shouldered a time-consuming project of her own. Her brother had made inquiries and found out that the city records were kept in a separate room adjacent to Celeborn’s library. Every afternoon the siblings spent a few hours there, systematically going through files and reports that described every hostile encounter that had taken place on Lórien territory over the past two thousand years.

It was a daunting task to say the least. They tried to work fast, but there was such a wealth of information to be found that neither Filanna nor Legolas expected to be finished within a week or even a fortnight. Of particular interest to Filanna were the reports that Haldir had written, and these steadily increased in number as he climbed the hierarchical ladder over the years. His reports were unsurprisingly meticulous, as was his penmanship, which Filanna had never seen before but soon learned to recognize. Although she was fascinated by these glimpses into his life, she couldn’t help feeling a little conflicted at the same time, couldn’t shed the feeling that she was prying, sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. These feelings increased tenfold when she unexpectedly stumbled across the file that narrated in detail the events leading up to Maenion’s death.

Inis had never told Filanna how exactly her husband had died, and Filanna hadn’t asked. In her imagination, Maenion had died by the sword, in honest eye-to-eye combat, but the reality of it was sadly different. After an orc arrow had hit him in the thigh during battle, Maenion had snapped the shaft in two and continued to fight with the arrowhead still embedded in his flesh. The wound itself was deep but survivable, and it wasn’t until after the victory was secured that Maenion suddenly became ill and collapsed. The arrowhead was leaking poison into his bloodstream, and Maenion’s condition deteriorated so rapidly that by the time his companions could administer an antidote, the venom had already ravaged most of his internal organs and caused irreparable damage.

Filanna could barely bring herself to read the part where Haldir summed up and described all of Maenion’s symptoms, a gruesome list she hoped would never find its way into Inis’s hands. The report furthermore stated that the arrowhead had been extracted from Maenion’s body and brought to Caras Galadhon to be examined. Haldir concluded: _Possibly new type of poison-- odourless, worked uncommonly fast, caused excessive bleeding from the nose and mouth. Strongly recommend a thorough analysis._ The last five words were underscored twice.

Filanna felt somewhat ill, and one look at her brother’s face told her that Legolas, too, had had enough for the day, so they started cleaning up shortly after that. They barely spoke a word until they exited the Great Hall side by side, blinking their eyes against the bright sunlight. “I assume you’ll be on your way to see Haldir now?” Legolas asked.

Filanna nodded, hardly surprised that he had guessed her thoughts. “If I can find him. Are you going to see Inis?”

Legolas sighed. “I would like to, I really would, but... I don’t know. Perhaps.” He looked up at the sun to estimate the time. “I suppose I’ll go and find something to eat, first. I can’t think clearly on an empty stomach.”

Filanna smiled, tempted to make a sarcastic comment, but she could see that now was not the time to tease him. He had also given her an idea, and after they had parted ways, Filanna paid a visit to the market and prepared a simple picnic basket. She then spent about a half hour looking for Haldir, whom she finally found talking to a few ellyn whose faces she vaguely recognized from earlier occasions. Not wanting to intrude, she kept a respectful distance as she waited for him to finish, and once the group disbanded, she went to him and hugged him as tightly as she could with her one good arm. She had never done anything like that in public before, but at this point she didn’t really care whether anyone saw them.

“Now, what is this?” He sounded surprised. “Is something the matter?”

“No.” She let go after a few moments and stepped back to look him in the eye. “I just felt like doing that, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all.” He smiled, but at the same time his eyes were searching her face attentively. “Are you sure you are all right?”

She blushed, wishing she could tell him what she and Legolas were doing, but she still wasn’t quite convinced that she wasn’t on a fool’s errand, and she did not want to give him false hope. “Do I have to explain myself for wanting to be nice to you? I have missed your company, and I thought we might enjoy a simple lunch together.” She lifted the picnic basket.

“I’ve already eaten.” He seemed to regret his impulsive response the moment it left his mouth, and added hastily, “But I would not be so foolish as to forgo an opportunity to spend time with a fair lady like yourself.”

Filanna smiled through her disappointment. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel obligated-”

“No, no. I am feeling quite snackish, come to think of it.” He lifted the lid of the basket to peek inside, then took it from her hand. “If you’ll allow me-- I know just the place.”

There was something in his tone that intrigued her, and she fell into step beside him, curious to see where he would take her. The knot in her stomach that Maenion’s story had given her was slowly dissipating, but in the back of her mind, the images were still very much present. She wasn’t naive, she had always known that death was very much a reality for those defending the borders, but she now had a much more acute understanding of what that meant. She wasn’t sure whether she should be thankful for that.

Haldir was blissfully unaware of her troubles. “How are you feeling today?” he inquired, looking pointedly at her sling. “How is the arm?”

“Not too bad,” she replied. “It isn’t of much use to me yet, but at least it doesn’t hurt as it did before.”

“Good, I’m glad.” He gave her an apologetic sideways glance. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by to see you. I meant to, but time is like the wind these days, I can’t seem to grasp or control it. The last week before the event is always the worst.”

“I can only imagine,” she said. “You don’t need to explain, Haldir. I would not expect you to cast your responsibilities to the wind for my sake.”

Once they left the principal paths of the city behind them, it didn’t take Filanna long to form a suspicion of where they were going, a suspicion that was confirmed when they came to the private glade where they had had an encounter a few months earlier. She had come here looking for a little solitude, and he had found her and proposed a truce. Then, with a little help from chance, he had given her the yellow flower to seal the agreement. He had kept his word, and their relationship had much improved since then.

“My, this brings back memories,” she said, gazing around.

“I thought it might.” He smiled. “Good memories, I hope?”

“Mostly.” She found a grassy spot near the stream and sat down with crossed legs. “I loved the flower. It smelled so nice, I rather missed it once it wilted. Fortunately the branches are still heavy with live flowers to enjoy.”

Haldir nodded. “The blossoms of the mellyrn bloom all through summer.” He began unpacking the contents of the basket she had prepared, giving her a surprised look when the first thing to come out was a pair of hard, green apples. “I thought you didn’t like these.”

“I don’t, but I know they’re your favourites.” She smiled self-consciously. “You can have them both, if you want.”

He put one of the apples back in the basket. “You can give it to Mithrenfin later. I am sure he’ll be as thankful a recipient as I am.”

She had not exactly been waiting for an opportunity to ask him about Glamion, but she reasoned that now was as good a time as any to get that misunderstanding out of the way. “Speaking of Mithrenfin...” She kept her tone deliberately light. “His hoof doesn’t seem to bother him as much as I had feared. Glamion did good work shoeing him.”

Haldir paused, looking decidedly sheepish, like a child who has been caught in a lie. “I suppose he did.”

She could see that she had caught him off-guard, and his guilty response amused her endlessly. “You could have told me that you had enlisted his help, Haldir. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“We did not enlist him,” Haldir said. “He offered his services without being asked. And I wanted to tell you, believe me, but Glamion asked me not to.”

“He did? Why?”

“I have asked myself the same question,” he said, “but frankly, why that elf does the things he does is a mystery to me. I only recently learned that he has two older brothers from whom he is completely alienated, and he is very embittered by that. Apparently his family pressured him to become a warden, and cut all ties when he chose a different path.”

“Hmm.” Filanna thoughtfully took a piece of her own favourite fruit, a peach. “I suppose that explains a few things, doesn’t it?”

He gave her a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Well...” She shrugged. “Doesn’t it strike you as interesting that both Glamion and Orophin are the youngest brother in a line of three? Yet Glamion is the black sheep of the family and you three are like peas in a pod. I am not saying it justifies anything, but I can see how that would fuel his hatred and jealousy.”

Haldir pondered this a short while. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. I doubt Glamion needs an actual reason to dislike anyone, frankly, but you may be right. In any case, I am glad that you are content with the work he has done, because I wasn’t sure whether we had made the right decision. I am sorry for not telling you the whole story.”

“Don’t be. I just wanted to know the reason, that is all. I do not think you would ever lie to me for the fun of it.”

“Indeed.” He gazed at her silently for a moment or two, his mouth sporting what might or might not have been a smirk. “My intentions may not always have been honourable, but I would like to think that they were always honest, at least.”

She snorted as she took a bite, causing peach juice to drip down her chin. For lack of a proper napkin, she used one of her sleeves to wipe it off. “Orophin told me once, not long after we met, that you don’t flirt with just anyone. What did he mean by that?”

“What do you think he meant?”

“I am not sure, but he seemed to suggest I ought to feel flattered.” Filanna chuckled. “Like I was part of an elite group.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.” Haldir cracked a smile as well. “It just seems I have a bit of a reputation for having a critical eye. It takes more than a pretty face to get my attention.”

“And yet I somehow managed to get your attention without even wanting to,” she pointed out.

“You almost fell on your face right in front of me,” Haldir countered lightly. “That made it quite hard for me not to notice you.” He pointed at her face. “You missed a spot.”

She brought a hand to her chin. “Where?”

“Right here.” Without further warning, he suddenly leaned into her personal space and kissed her confidently on the mouth. This time he took full initiative, kissing her as though he was staking a claim, but she was an equally willing participant. What was more, when he finally made to disengage, she curled her hand into the front of his shirt and pulled him back to her.

“Careful, there.” He chuckled. “I am rather attached to this shirt.”

“Just don’t stop,” she murmured. “You always stop, and I don’t want you to.”

“There is a reason for that.” He lowered his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers. “I’m afraid to go beyond this point because I don’t know how well I can trust myself once my blood begins to boil. And these days, it doesn’t take much for that to happen.”

She sighed. “This is silly, Haldir. We obviously both want to take the next step in this relationship, so why are we still waiting?”

“Your health, that’s why,” he promptly replied, in a tone that left no room for negotiation. “You are barely recovered from a concussion, and your wrist is still healing. I don’t want your first experience to be spoiled by any of that.”

She nodded slowly, wishing she could argue with that. “Fair enough.”

He sat back slightly, gazing at her silently for a moment or two. “You seem disappointed. I thought the slow pace suited you well.”

“It did before.” She blushed slightly. “But now that I have decided that I want to lie with you, I find the waiting excruciating. I want to get it over with, so I can stop worrying about it.” She gave him an apologetic glance. “I know that doesn’t sound very romantic, but that is how I feel. I’m sure it makes no sense to you whatsoever.”

“More than you think.” He smiled. “I’m not ashamed to admit that I, too, was nervous the first time. But if you are truly having doubts, Filanna, perhaps we should wait a little-”

“No, don’t say that.” She quickly put her hand over his mouth, gazing earnestly into his eyes. “When we were children, Legolas once dared me to jump into the lake from a seventy-foot cliff. I have never been more scared in my life, but I closed my eyes and jumped anyway. Once I’d done that, it wasn’t all that scary anymore, and I threw myself off that cliff about a dozen times more, just for the thrill of it. I am almost as scared of being intimate with you as I was to make that seventy-foot jump, but that doesn’t mean I’m backing down. The first hurdle is always the highest-- but once I’m past it, I’ll be glad that I took it.”

He gently brushed her hair away from her neck, tilting his head slightly as he traced her jawline with his thumb. “Come here, I’ll tell you a secret.”

Curious, she leaned in, barely suppressing a shiver when he put his lips to her ear and whispered, “In my head it is already happening, you know. I think of every kiss, every touch, however brief, as a preliminary to the main event. When I lie in bed at night, I like to let my mind dwell on those things, imagining what it will be like, touching and kissing you all over, being inside you. Do you mind?”

She smiled with her eyes closed. “No, I don’t mind.”

“It helps. You should try it.” He paused, and she could hear him breathing softly in and out a few times before he spoke again. “Be patient a little longer, Filanna. Once you are fit, we’ll make as much love as you want to. I promise you’ll want to jump off that cliff over and over again.”

“Can we not even sleep in the same bed until then?” Filanna asked timidly. “You are welcome in mine.”

“I would like to very much, but again, I doubt it would be wise.” Haldir sighed, then chuckled softly. “Besides, you should enjoy having the bed to yourself while you can. I’ve been told I hog the sheets.”

xxx

Despite the many hours of research and the useful insights she had gained from it, Filanna still struggled to form a strategy that would help her achieve her goal, which was to convince the head of the healers’ guild to support Haldir’s cause. She had a feeling it would not be an easy task; Turnion was a square-shouldered, stern-faced ellon who looked intimidating even from afar. Then again, she had felt the same way about Haldir once, which had taught her not to rely too much on first impressions.

She spent so much time thinking about the matter that everything else more or less faded to the background, Glamion included. Until one morning, after her daily visit to Mithrenfin, she spotted him from a distance. He looked rushed and even more grim than usual, but she went in pursuit against her better judgment, bracing herself for a cold shoulder. “Glamion? A moment or two of your time, if I may.”

Although looking annoyed, he halted and turned to face her. “My time is valuable. What do you want?”

She hesitated, reminding herself that his hostility was not something she should take personally. “I only want to thank you, and let you know that I appreciate what you have done for Mithrenfin. I will not forget it.”

Glamion looked sour. “Our precious Haldir didn’t waste any time in spilling the beans, did he? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Haldir hasn’t told me a thing,” Filanna said. “It was Felegron, but does it matter? I am just grateful that Mithrenfin could benefit from your expertise, and that you haven’t let our unpleasant first meeting get in the way of that.”

“Spare me, princess,” Glamion said unkindly. “I did what I did because I would hate to see such a magnificent animal permanently crippled. I seek no reward other than his recovery, and I certainly don’t need your gratitude.”

“You have it all the same, whatever your reasons were.” Filanna paused. “I also want to apologize for punching you. Your behaviour that day was ungracious and provocative, but I should have handled the situation differently. I am truly sorry.”

Glamion smiled, for the first time, as his gaze went from the stitches in her forehead to her arm sling. “Well, I think we may conclude that you got your due and more, and I can’t even claim responsibility for it.”

Filanna flushed and gritted her teeth unconsciously, determined not to let him provoke her a second time. “Why are you like this, Glamion? You don’t know me, yet you have already decided to dislike me, for no apparent reason other than the fact that Orophin is my friend.”

“I actually don’t dislike you, princess. I find you quite amusing, in fact. But your choice in friends is very poor indeed.” He grinned. “It is not too late to cut ties with them and join the dark side, though.”

It jarred her that he called her ‘princess’, as it reminded her of Haldir, but she knew better than to point that out to him. “I am perfectly happy with my choice in friends. But since I will be staying in Caras Galadhon indefinitely, I would like for us to peacefully coexist, at least. Do you think that will be possible?”

Glamion was no longer smiling-- in fact, he seemed quite caught off-guard by her question. “As long as you don’t get in my way,” he finally said grudgingly, “I suppose we don’t have a problem.”

She exhaled slowly, nodding. “Good. I won’t take up any more of your time, then. Have a pleasant day, Glamion.”

She felt gratified as she turned and walked away, because she thought she had handled the situation quite maturely. If she was honest, she saw him in a slightly different light since Haldir had told her about Glamion’s feud with his brothers; deep in her heart she admired him just a little bit for disregarding his family’s expectations and sailing his own course. Rebellion was something she was familiar with, and she knew what it was like to feel like the odd one out, although she would never go so far as to alienate her entire family because of it. It also didn’t change the fact that he was an unpleasant character, and someone she would rather avoid if she could. Now that she had said her piece and cleared the air, she hoped she could go back to doing just that.

xxx

Despite having stated on more than one occasion that his drinking days were over, Haldir still enjoyed the occasional cold ale, and he found that they were going down easy tonight. He rarely showed his face in the city tavern, but another long day spent on preparations for the treasure hunt – traditionally the most popular part of the event – had made him and his peers thirsty for a cold pint. The atmosphere was a merry one, and even Haldir, who didn’t consider himself to be a brilliant conversationalist, caught himself enjoying this rare moment of male bonding with ellyn who wore the same uniform and knew the responsibilities that came with it.

“Well, look who is here!” Arphain said, shortly after Meliel had brought the third round of the evening. “It is the chosen one, the dust of the road still upon his shoulders.” He waved at Orophin, who had just entered the tavern. He had been on duty at the borders for the past few weeks and seemed to have only just returned-- he was even still wearing his traveller’s cloak and his weaponry.

“Come sit with us, chosen one,” Arphain said jovially. “Your illustrious presence will reflect well on us all. May we offer you a pint of the golden brew?”

“You may indeed,” Orophin said as he came over to their table. “The roads were dry and my throat feels like sandpaper. It appears I’m behind a few rounds.”

“It is only our third, you can still catch up.” Meredion gestured to get Meliel’s attention. “How is the keeper of the sword, nervous for his finest hour?”

Haldir sighed inwardly. He was glad to see his brother whole and well, but if this was going to be another evening of Orophin bragging about his responsibilities regarding the sword, he would leave for sure. He was tired of hearing the same stories over and over again, tired of Orophin’s inflated pride. Orophin was in some ways so childlike still, and there were moments when Haldir envied him for it, but he had the impression that his youngest sibling regarded Amdir’s sword as little more than a pretty accessory, something that would lend him status. He would, no doubt, take it with him wherever he went, and the thought of Lórien’s most important historical artefact being dragged from tavern to tavern made Haldir cringe.

After finishing his third drink, he remained for another half hour before getting up and wishing the assembly a good night. He left his payment on the table, lingering briefly at the counter to thank Meliel, and headed out the door.

“Haldir, wait up.” Orophin caught up with him outside. He had taken off his cloak earlier, yet his cheeks were slightly flushed. “Is everything all right? You seemed a bit absent in there.”

“It’s been a long day,” Haldir said. “In fact, all days this past week have been endless. I’m heading home to get some sleep.”

“Sure you are.” Orophin grinned meaningfully. “Come on, I’m weeks behind on gossip. If you are leaving early to see a certain lady, just tell me. Can I call Filanna sister yet?”

Haldir smiled. “Only if you want to spook her to the core of her being. And no, I’m not seeing her tonight. She’s had an accident.” He quickly told Orophin the details.

“That is unfortunate, and damn inconvenient at that,” Orophin said when Haldir finished. “But you won’t let that get in the way of a little spooning, will you?”

Haldir raised an eyebrow in amusement. “We are currently not sharing a bed, if that is what you mean. Filanna and I are in mutual agreement-”

“Nonsense. You probably suggested it, and Filanna had no choice but to grudgingly agree. Just go over there and tell her you have changed your mind. No elleth in her right mind would turn down a cuddle.”

“It is late,” Haldir said evasively. “She is probably asleep by now.”

“Stop thinking of excuses!” Orophin laughed. “Valar, the lengths you go to to stick to those damn principles of yours. When it comes to the other sex, you can be really clueless, do you know that?”

“Yes, I do know that,” Haldir said, more testily than intended. “I am quite aware of my flaws, Orophin, you don’t need to keep pointing them out to me.”

“Oh come, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” Orophin crossed his arms, smiling no more. “What is wrong with you? You’ve been acting strange since I arrived, and don’t tell me it is because you’ve had a long day. Is it about the sword? You always get that sour look on your face when I mention it, why is that?”

Haldir pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. “Orophin, can we please have this conversation some other time? I’ve had a lot on my plate recently.”

“Too bad,” Orophin said without any compassion. “Listen, I’m no fool. I know you find my excitement tiresome, and I don’t blame you for that, because you’re the Marchwarden and I’m sure you have more important things to worry about. But I want to strangle you so badly right now. Don’t you understand why this is important to me? You already have the status and the respect; no matter where you go, people take notice of you and listen to what you have to say. With this election, I get to experience a tiny fraction of that. Why can’t you rejoice with me?”

Haldir needed a moment to process. He would never have thought that his happy-go-lucky brother envied him for anything. “Orophin, of course I am pleased for you, but I also need you to realize that that gratification won’t last. Besides, you don’t need an artefact like that to be worthy of respect. You are a fine soldier-”

Orophin huffed. “And this from you, who never wanted me to become a warden in the first place.”

“That is not-”

“Just say it, Haldir,” Orophin cut him off. “Just admit, for once in your life, that you resent it, that you never really supported my choice. Eru knows you tried to talk me out of it a thousand times.”

“You are being childish,” Haldir said with strained calm. “Yes, I had different hopes for you, but once you made it clear that your mind was made up, I did everything I could to support you. I made sure you had the best teachers, I prepared you in every way I knew how, just like Father would have done. What more do you want?”

For a moment they held each other’s gazes, until Orophin lowered his eyes. “You know, you are right,” he said quietly. “You did do all those things and more, you even let me sleep under your roof after Naneth left. The last thing I want is to appear ungrateful, especially to you, because I wouldn’t be who I am today without you. You set an example for me to live by, brother, whether you knew it or not.” He paused. “You ask me what I want? Ever since I grew out of my diapers, all I wanted was to become exactly like you, to grow up into someone you could be proud of. I suppose I have failed in doing so.” With that, he turned around and ran back up the stair, two steps at a time.

The confession left Haldir stunned. What in Varda’s name was going on? This was not the Orophin he knew. “Orophin, that is not true. I _am_ proud of you. Orophin!” The tavern door slammed shut with an angry bang, leaving Haldir to wonder whether Orophin had even heard him. He cursed, with feeling, and briefly toyed with the idea of going back in to sort things out, but eventually decided against it. Most likely it would only make matters worse, and the last thing he wanted was to make a scene in public.

Unfortunately, the argument with Orophin left a dark cloud over his head, one that followed him on his way home. He was tired, frustrated, and suddenly found the idea of his empty talan thoroughly depressing. There was, in all honesty, only one place he truly wanted to be right now, so he ignored the flight of steps leading up to his doorstep and took a right turn instead.

It took a while for Filanna to answer the door. When she finally appeared, he needed but one look at her face to know that she had been asleep.

“Elbereth, you are beautiful.” The words escaped him, like a sigh that came from deep within. He had meant to say something else, to apologize for waking her, but she was such a sight for sore eyes, standing there with sleep in her eyes and her hair all a-tangle, that he didn’t feel sorry at all. He looked at her bandaged wrist, which she gently cradled in her other hand. “Where is your sling?”

“I take it off at night.” Her voice sounded different, a little hoarse, and she blinked her eyes confusedly. “Haldir, what exactly are you doing here?”

“I don’t really know.” Haldir shifted on his feet uneasily. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to an elleth’s talan like this looking for something other than sex. “I needed to see a friendly face. I think I just walked all over my little brother’s heart.”

She processed this for a moment. Fortunately, she did not ask him to explain. “That happens between siblings,” she finally said. “Everyone says things they don’t mean from time to time. Talk to him again tomorrow, it’ll be fine.”

He sighed and nodded, not wanting to spend another moment thinking of Orophin, Glamion or the warden selections. Tonight, he wanted nothing but to fall asleep next to her warm body without a care in the world.

“I was wondering...” He cleared his throat. “I know it is late and a bit sudden, but I would like to accept that invitation after all, if it still stands. I promise I will try not to hog the sheets.”

“You want to stay here tonight? A few days ago you didn’t seem to think it was a good idea.”

Attempting a smile, he said, “I have seen the error of my ways.” He was already half convinced that she would send him away, but eventually she stepped aside to let him in.

“Good,” she said, smiling. “It took you long enough.”


	24. Something To Remember

The first August morning broke with the rising of a hazy summer sun. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, yet to forty aspiring wardens – thirty-seven male and three female – this was the day that had consumed their waking hours for the past five years or more. Today began their ultimate test, and for the other citizens of Caras Galadhon, two weeks of spectacle and merriment.

Filanna woke early, perhaps due to the still-unfamiliar feeling of a heavy body turning over next to her. Even though Haldir had slept in her bed for the past three nights, part of her was still surprised to see him next to her in the mornings. There was something intimate and oddly reassuring about it, but it was as yet uncertain whether he would be joining her again anytime soon. For the next two weeks, his time would not be his own. The forty contestants would be constantly in each other’s company, even sharing dinner tables and sleeping quarters, as part of a bonding process in which Haldir would also be expected to participate. This inevitably meant less time for courtship.

Realizing that there was no more sleep left to be had, she rolled over on her back and began flexing her wrist carefully, as the healer had instructed her to do. The joint was still a little stiff in the mornings, but there were definite signs of improvement. The stitches in her forehead had already come out a few days earlier, and with a little luck, the arm sling and bandage would soon be a thing of the past as well.

After a minute or two, Haldir sighed and turned over, fixing her with one drowsy eye. “How is that going?” he murmured into the pillow.

“A little better every day.” She lowered her arm and smiled at her sleepy bedmate. “You can catch a few more winks, if you want. It is early still.”

“Mmm.” He stifled a yawn, but instead of doing as she suggested, he propped himself up on one elbow. “It is barely light outside. What woke you up?”

“I don't know, and it doesn't matter,” she said. “I’m glad we have a chance to talk before you leave; I know you have to get up early today, and I wasn’t sure whether you would wake me to say goodbye.”

He smiled. “Not all females respond well to that, is my experience. It is best not to take such a risk unless one is absolutely sure that the lady in question will be appreciative.” He slowly traced one strap of her nightgown with his index finger. “Will you be at the opening ceremony, this afternoon?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m meeting with Inis, Gwenél and the others after breakfast; we’ll all go together.” She hesitated. “Have you spoken with Orophin yet?”

“I’ve tried, but he seems to be avoiding me.” Haldir sighed. “And he does it very well.”

“You have to keep trying,” she said. “Today is an important day for him, and all he wants is for you to be there and share in his joy.”

He gave no reply and she fell silent also, distracted by the way he was touching her. His fingers followed her collarbone, then travelled down, down, not stopping when he reached her breast but changing direction to trace its outer curve. Although they had spent three nights practically sleeping on the same pillow, this was the first time he touched her with such deliberation, gazed at her with a certain something in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat.

“What are you doing?” she asked tremulously. She hated being so sheepish, but the heavy silence was more than she could bear.

“Should I stop?” he asked in turn. His hand rested lightly on her ribcage, just below her right breast.

“No. I don’t know. It depends.” She laughed nervously, keeping very still for fear of breaking the spell.

He gazed down at her for a few moments, his expression unreadable. “I want to give you something,” he said in a low voice. “Something to remember until next time.”

Before she could ask him what he meant by that, he sat up and threw the sheets aside, guiding her knees up and apart so he could kneel between them. She froze unconsciously, keenly aware of how exposed she was in this position.

“Don’t be afraid,” he told her gently. “If you want me to stop at any time, just say the word.”

She nodded hesitantly, not sure what to expect, but her curiosity was stronger than her fear of the unknown. And more importantly: she trusted him. Looking into his eyes she saw only gentle consideration, and a sincere wish to please her.

“Close your eyes.” He smiled when he saw her confused reaction. “Trust me, Filanna. Close your eyes.”

She obeyed, bracing herself though she did not know what for. The mattress dipped as he shifted his weight and his hands returned, this time to the insides of her thighs. His touch was light yet deliberate, and it kindled a small fire in the pit of her belly, one that was not entirely unfamiliar, but had sputtered to a premature death on previous occasions, never allowed to blaze. The sureness in his touch told her that this time would be different, his fingers now approaching a part of her anatomy that was alien even to herself.

Filanna had always felt rather indifferent about her body and had never really taken the time to familiarize herself with its secrets. The fact that she was a woman meant little to her; in fact, as a child, she had often secretly wished that she was born male, because she felt she had much more in common with her brothers than with her sisters. She had grown out of that phase eventually, although she remembered feeling more bewildered than excited when her breasts started to develop. She did not dislike them, but she wasn’t particularly attached to them either, and she was glad that they had remained relatively modest in size. As for that other part of her female anatomy, until very recently she had only thought of that as something that might one day prove its use in childbirth. She obviously had a few things to learn, and while she was grateful for Haldir’s gentle education, she struggled with the impulse to snap her legs shut.

“Try to relax,” he reminded her. “This won’t hurt, I promise.”

He leaned down to kiss her, at the same time moving his hand between her legs and pressing his thumb into _something_ that sent a jolt of pleasure through her body for which she was completely unprepared. She arched off the bed involuntarily, even yelped, but the sound was mostly absorbed by the kiss. Haldir continued doing whatever it was that felt so good, every stroke of his thumb stoking the fire within, until she could barely form a coherent thought. The exquisite pressure was rapidly mounting towards some frightening and unknown high.

“Wait, wait.” She reached between their bodies and seized his wrist, forcing his hand away while she struggled to regain control over her trembling body. “I’m sorry, I need a moment.”

She had never felt more stupid in her life, and she avoided looking at him, afraid of what she might see in his eyes.

“Too much, too soon?” His tone at least was gentle, understanding even.

She shook her head, sudden tears of frustration pricking her eyes. “It feels like I’m standing on the edge of that cliff again,” she said quietly. “I want to jump, but I’m afraid to. I’ve never… surrendered like this to anyone. If I give you this part of myself...”

He nodded encouragingly when she trailed off. “Go on.”

“Whatever comes after this-- there is no way back from that.” She looked at him helplessly, having difficulty putting her feelings into words, but she needed him to understand. “Something will be irrevocably changed, at least for me. I don’t form attachments easily, but when I do, I stick like a barnacle to the hull of a ship.” Embarrassed, she lowered her eyes again. “I... I’m just afraid of needing you too much, if that makes sense. I’m afraid of becoming attached to something I may not be able to keep.”

“I understand that,” he said earnestly. “But sometimes you just have to take that leap of faith, Filanna. There are promises I can’t possibly make, though I dearly wish I could.”

“I know.” She bit her lip. “Just promise me, please, that you will at least try to stay alive. If you go and get yourself killed after this, I will be very mad.”

He smiled, although his eyes betrayed a deeper emotion as he lightly caressed her hair. “I promise I will give it my best effort.”

“Also, if it is not too much to ask...” She blushed. “I would appreciate it if... er...”

Her obvious discomfort made him chuckle, and he seemed to guess her thoughts. “Don’t worry, Filanna. My many mistresses are officially a thing of the past. I know what kind of commitment you desire.”

“And that thought doesn’t scare you?”

“For a while it did.” He paused, holding her gaze. “To be entirely frank with you, I never had any intention of committing myself like that, and I had arranged my life accordingly. But these past few months I have become increasingly aware that those arrangements were no longer fulfilling, and that certain changes were due. They were difficult changes to make, but if I had to make them again, I wouldn’t hesitate. I have come to terms with the fact that my desires and expectations have changed.”

Filanna smiled, reassured by his words and by the sincerity she saw in his eyes. Deciding that there was nothing left to say, she took his hand and guided it between her legs-- still coy, but sure this time, and she gazed directly into his eyes to let him know that she was ready – as ready as she would ever be – to make the jump.

He began touching her again, and now that she had given herself permission to relinquish control, she found that the rest came easy, so easy in fact that it made her previous concerns seem rather silly. Using only kisses, his fingers and occasionally his voice, he allowed her pleasure to slowly build to such a height that she felt she might die on the spot. Even when he entered her body, pushing a finger carefully inside, the discomfort did not last long enough to break the spell he had weaved. Confidently, yet with the consideration and patience of any good lover, he stoked the fire within to an inferno that continued to gain momentum until something had to give-- and it did. A few more well-placed strokes pushed her over the edge, and she climaxed crying out his name, her body shaken by a series of forceful tremors that followed each other in quick succession. It was almost agony, yet she wanted it to go on and on and on, until it was over and she was left wondering which way was up and which way was down. As she lay gasping for air, she barely even noticed that he withdrew from her body and covered her up with her nightgown.

“What in Elbereth’s name just happened?” she said when she finally had some breath to spare.

“You climaxed, my dear.” Haldir was observing her with an expression of deep contentment on his face. “And quite beautifully so, I might add.”

She looked at the palms of her hands, noticing that her nails had left tiny, moon-shaped indentations in her skin.

“You see? There is nothing to it.” He leaned forward to gently kiss her. “Did you find it enjoyable?”

She nodded wordlessly, afraid to spoil the moment with platitudes. She put both her arms around his neck and clutched him as though she never wanted to let go again, which wasn’t that far from the truth. After a while however, once her initial euphoria began to wane, it occurred to Filanna that she ought to observe the rules of bed etiquette with which she was still so unfamiliar.

She prodded his shoulder timidly. “Would you like me to... return the favour?”

He opened his eyes, looking mildly surprised. “Some other time, certainly, but let’s not cross too many bridges at once. Besides, you have only one good hand.”

“Do I need more than one?”

He smirked at that. “Well, ideally... yes.”

“But there must be _something_ I can do, even with one hand,” she insisted. “Can’t you name anything that you would like?”

He considered for a moment. “There is a rather persistent knot at the back of my neck. It’s been there for days and I can’t reach it myself. Perhaps you could rub it for a bit? That is something I would very much enjoy.”

She nodded, happy for the opportunity to give something back, however small. “Turn over.”

Once he lay facing down, she straddled him, brushing his hair aside to expose his neck. He was already bare-chested – she suspected that he usually slept naked, but refrained from doing so in her presence lest it cause her embarrassment – and she began massaging his neck and shoulder area diligently. His skin was near flawless, save for a number of scars of various sizes that told the stories of his battles. His muscles were a little stiff at first, but soon became yielding under her touch, strong but supple like well-tended leather. She loved his physique, and she enjoyed having him between her legs like this, relaxed and at her mercy. It excited her and made her wish he would make love to her despite her little handicap. One small bite of the cake had only whetted her appetite-- now she wanted the rest of it.

“Lord Eru, you do that well.” He sighed. “If I fall asleep, will you wake me up?”

She replied affirmatively, although it was a promise reluctantly made. She did not want to claim more of his time than she was entitled to, but she didn’t want this morning to end either. The moment he stepped out of the door, he was no longer hers, and she hated not knowing when she would see him again. She would never actually go so far as to delay him on purpose – especially today – but if there was a way to manipulate time somehow and keep him in bed with her all day, she wouldn’t have hesitated even for a moment.

***

What it was that gave her away, Filanna never knew, but her friends needed but one look at her to know that something had changed. The six of them – Inis, Gwenél, Mereniel, Aelwen, Bereth and herself – had agreed to meet at Mereniel’s talan, have tea together and then make for the festival terrain, just outside the city gates. The opening ceremony was to start at noon.

“My, aren’t you looking all happy and glowy today,” Aelwen observed before Filanna had even opened her mouth. “Who might be responsible for that silly grin on your face, pray tell? Is it someone we know?”

“Leave her alone,” said Gwenél, who saw Filanna blushing. “If there is something she wants to share with us, she will do so on her own account.”

“But I need the gossip.” Aelwen pouted. “I thrive on it. And no one tells me anything these days.”

“And why would that be, I wonder?” Mereniel said as she poured tea. “My, the way you constantly obsess about other people’s love lives, one would think you have none of your own.”

Aelwen’s offended expression made Filanna smile. She felt for her, because Mereniel had a sharp tongue that lashed out like a whip at times, but that didn’t mean she was ungrateful for the intervention. She leaned closer to Gwenél. “Am I really glowing?”

Her friend giggled. “You are, a little. But I don’t blame you. If Rúmil looked at me the way Haldir does at you, I would be glowing too.” She blushed suddenly and averted her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk so much about him.”

Filanna touched her hand reassuringly. “Don’t be sorry. You can’t help the way you feel. I just wish Rúmil would open his eyes and realize what a good thing he is missing out on.”

Bereth was the last to join them. She was wearing a green dress that made the redness of her hair stand out even more, and Filanna could not help but wonder once again why Haldir would willingly give up on such a sensational beauty as Bereth was. But she was glad to see her, and before they left, she managed to find a moment to talk to Bereth privately.

“I have something to give you.” Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Filanna put a pair of earrings in Bereth’s hand. They were made of very fine silver, each with a small emerald in the shape of a leaf. “My Naneth must have packed them without telling me-- I discovered them only days ago. I’d like for you to have them.”

“They are beautiful,” Bereth said as she admired the fine filigree. “But I cannot accept something so valuable, Filanna. They belong to you.”

“I never wear them,” Filanna said truthfully. “I don’t care much for jewelry, so while they are mine they serve no purpose. They would probably have been claimed by one of my sisters sooner or later. Please accept them, as a token of friendship. It would mean a lot to me.”

Bereth met Filanna’s gaze and smiled. “In that case I would be happy to accept them. Thank you, meldis.” She took out her own earrings and replaced them with Filanna’s, turning her head this way and that. “Well, how do I look?”

“Very pretty,” Filanna said with warmth. “Like the princess I never was.”

“That’ll do.” Bereth giggled and hugged Filanna spontaneously. “Come, let’s go and pay tribute to the brave ellith and ellyn who serve the common good-- especially the ones that are close to our hearts, nay?”

Filanna had not been outside the city gates since the day of the accident and had not seen the preparations being made, so once they came to the festival site she felt momentarily overwhelmed. Aside from a central arena for sparring matches, training sessions and so forth, there were various games for children as well as for adults, stalls with food and beverages, a tombola, music, even a small stage for announcements and performances. It seemed that all of Caras Galadhon had come to be a part of the general merriment. The wardens in attendance were all dressed in uniform, the crests of Celeborn and Galadriel upon their chests, while the officers wore their additional insignia and decorations for extraordinary achievements. The forty competitors were not yet permitted to wear the warden’s attire, but they were marked with a small white ribbon pinned to their clothes. When one such ellon or elleth passed by, they were applauded and celebrated by the crowd, and even Filanna was instantly drawn in by the exuberant atmosphere. She did, however, keep looking around for Haldir, whom she had not seen since he left her bed and her talan that morning.

She found Orophin instead. He was looking his very best, every inch of him exuding confidence and every hair in its proper place. She complimented him on his appearance and he returned the compliment before inquiring how she was doing. They had not had much time to talk since his return, and their conversation made Filanna realize how much she had missed him.

“In case you were looking for Haldir, he isn’t here yet,” Orophin said. “The Marchwardens traditionally escort the Lord and Lady to the festival grounds. They should arrive within a half hour.”

“Ah.” She hesitated, but only for a moment. “Have you spoken with him today?”

“Yes, briefly.”

“He feels very bad about your quarrel, Orophin,” she said. “I really wish for the two of you to settle your issues, leave it all behind you. Letting this argument drag on and on will help no one.”

“It is sweet of you to care, Filanna,” Orophin said with a slight smile. “Please, don’t let our family troubles get to you. I love my brother more than life itself, but we have a somewhat complicated relationship. With Ada dying and Naneth leaving us not much later, Haldir had to step up and be a guardian to me. He did so without complaining, although it is hardly the kind of responsibility an ellon in his position dreams of. In any case, to this day I think I still look to him for words of appreciation, a pat on the back, but that isn’t really Haldir’s forte. My relationship with Rúmil is quite different. We are more like equals, and I don’t need his approval like I seem to need Haldir’s.” He paused and put a hand on her shoulder. “Well, I hope you enjoy yourself today. You will come and watch the sword ceremony, won’t you?”

“Of course, I’ll be standing front row.”

Once she had rejoined her friends, the group of six went on to explore the terrain and its diversions, chattering and laughing as friends do. Even Filanna was talkative, giggling about silly things with the others, completely free of the socially awkward shell that had so often held her back in the past. Sometimes she still felt a little sad being separated from her family, but those thoughts were usually fleeting in nature. Lórien had been good to her, given her things that she had never had before-- friends, responsibilities, freedom from the restraints of court. And a lover, who not only gave her great joy but made her feel that she was worth it.

After a while, she noticed to her amusement that certain people – males – were looking at them as they passed by. A few even came over to talk, among them a sentinel who took a particular interest in Bereth, judging by the way his eyes fixed on her. His name was Curuvir, and after Bereth had made the introductions, he asked her if it would please her to spend the afternoon with him.

“Certainly it would, some other time,” she replied lightly. “Today I am here with my friends. Maybe tomorrow.”

“A new beau of yours, Bereth?” Aelwen said when Curuvir, who had taken the refusal very graciously, was barely out of earshot. “He is easy on the eyes, I’ll give you that. I would have accepted the invitation if I were you.”

“Oh, so you would have dropped everything, including your friends, the very moment a pair of smoldering eyes came along?” said Mereniel, who never missed an opportunity to put Aelwen in her place. “Very nice.”

Bereth touched Mereniel’s arm placatingly. “Curuvir is a friend, Aelwen, not my beau.”

“He seems to be applying for the position, though.” Aelwen smirked. “What keeps you, meldis? We all know the Marchwarden is a formidable lover, but is he truly keeping you so well satisfied that you can’t possibly accomodate another bedmate?”

Mereniel groaned, while Inis and Gwenél looked merely uncomfortable. Bereth exchanged a glance with Filanna, both bursting out in giggles while Mereniel quickly explained to Aelwen what she had missed. The unfortunate elleth blushed deeply. “How was I supposed to know that when _no one tells me anything_?” she lamented.

At that point, the relaxed and merry atmosphere suddenly changed-- there was a rush of excitement, and everyone started crowding toward something Filanna could not see.

“Oh look, look, they’re here!” Bereth took her by the arm and pulled her along through the rapidly growing mass of spectators. “Come, you have to see this.”

“What? What is happening?” Filanna craned her neck, confused, but she didn’t see anything worth the excitement. If it wasn’t for Bereth’s firm grip on her arm, they surely would have gotten separated in the crowd.

“Look, over there.” Bereth took Filanna by the shoulders and gave her a push. As she stumbled to the front, Filanna saw that there was a path several yards wide in the middle of the crowd, and when she followed the gazes of everyone around her, she saw why people were keeping such a respectful distance. A small procession was making its way through the ranks, heading in the direction of the central arena. Two sentinels were walking in front, bearing the standards of Amdir and Amroth, the last two Kings to have sat on the throne of Lórien. The Lord and Lady followed behind, Celeborn carrying a tall sword that looked ancient but well-groomed. Then came the four Marchwardens, and two more sentinels closed the procession.

The Lord and Lady looked like Valar incarnate in their flowing summer robes, but the Marchwardens were just as stunning to behold. Each was dressed in a ceremonial uniform, a summer cape that was fastened at the shoulders and a belt with a scabbarded sword. They all looked spectacular, although it seemed to Filanna that Haldir was not entirely comfortable in full regalia. Unlike his three peers, he was looking straight ahead with a stoic face, hardly acknowledging the acclamations of the crowd. He clearly wished for the whole thing to be over and done with as soon as possible, and he wasn’t hiding it very well.

The procession had now almost reached her. She half expected Haldir to walk right past without even seeing her, but somehow their eyes did connect, as if Haldir sensed her presence in the crowd. She pointed at him discreetly, then pushed the corners of her mouth upwards with her index fingers. He smiled, having understood her meaning, and held her gaze until he could no longer do so without turning his head. In the wake of the procession, the ranks of spectators were merging as all made ready to follow the Lord and Lady to the central arena, where the opening ceremony was to take place.

“A sight to remember, isn’t it?” Bereth said as Filanna turned to face her.

Filanna nodded. She did not think that the discreet little exchange between Haldir and herself had drawn attention, but she suspected that Bereth had not missed it. “Poor Haldir, though. He did not seem to enjoy that at all.”

“Oh, he resents public displays like these-- they’re a chore to him. Come, let’s go find the others and see if we can secure a good spot from where to watch the ceremony.”

The sword ceremony was a custom that dated back to the earliest years of the Third Age. Rather than placing the sword in his father’s tomb, Amroth had brought it back to Lórien to make it a symbol of honour and perseverance for his people, and as such it was still considered one of Lórien’s greatest treasures. It also served as a tangible reminder that the Galadhrim’s freedom and prosperity had once been paid for in elven blood. Celeborn referred to this in a short but earnest speech, asking those present to take a moment to commemorate the ones who had fallen. After a minute or two, Celeborn beckoned to Orophin, who came forward and knelt humbly to accept his duty. By saying the pledge – which he had learned entirely by heart – he vowed to be true to the spirit of the event and to prove himself worthy of the honour bestowed on him. Then he rose, and after Celeborn had placed the sword in his hands, he held it up for a few moments, showing it to the crowd before putting the belt around his waist and strapping it tight. The spectators acknowledged him with applause, and Celeborn raised his arms, declaring that the event had herewith officially begun. He concluded by wishing all participants best of luck with their endeavour.

The ceremonial part now over, the Lord and Lady left the arena arm in arm, as did everyone else who had no business there. The Marchwardens remained, shedding all superfluous attributes such as capes and swords, and began instructing the nervous cadets.

“What happens now?” Filanna asked as she turned to her friends.

“Wait and see, meldis,” Aelwen said in a singsong tone, “wait and see.”

“Hand-to-hand combat training,” Gwenél added helpfully. “Just watch, Filanna. You won’t be sorry.”

Before long, the forty hopefuls had formed pairs and – with the exception of the females – bared their torsos, taking position opposite each other. The Marchwardens spread out across the field, and at a sign from one of them, all pairs launched into combat mode-- circling, feinting, grappling, each trying to unbalance the other and gain the upper hand. Many opponents were almost equally strong, which resulted in heated wrestling matches that were quite thrilling to watch. The raw energy and physicality of this display, especially in contrast to the solemn ceremony that had preceded it, left few unaffected. Filanna, for one, was enthralled.

“Oh my,” she said feebly, unable to take her eyes off the straining, half-nude bodies in the arena. “Oh, my.”

“Didn’t we tell you?” Aelwen cooed, wringing her hands in giddy joy. “Isn’t it just the best thing you ever saw? Oh happy, happy day!”

The others nodded in mute agreement, blissful expressions upon their faces. For once, even Mereniel had nothing to add.


	25. Lost And Found

As expected, Filanna saw little of Haldir that first week, but the festivities did not leave her much time to dwell on that fact. She went to the arena every day, wandering the festival grounds to take in the atmosphere and watching the competitions. Some recruits were already beginning to stand out from their peers, and Filanna watched them closely, wondering if Haldir was pleased with their performances. He would be a critical judge, she knew, because the grey uniform of the wardens wasn’t easily earned.

One day, when she and Legolas ran into Orophin not far from the central arena, Filanna jumped at the opportunity to introduce the two. It was something she had wanted to do for a while. “Orophin,” she called, “have you met my brother?”

Orophin came over, smiling pleasantly, the sword of Amdir at his side as always. “I have not had the pleasure,” he said, bowing courteously. “Your Highness, I greet you.”

“Legolas, meet Orophin,” Filanna said. “He is Haldir’s brother, and a good friend of mine.”

“Well met,” Legolas said as he extended his arm for the less formal soldier’s greeting. “It is my understanding that you were among the first to welcome my sister and help her settle here. I thank you for that.”

Orophin reached out also and the two clasped forearms briefly. “It was gladly done. She has turned out to be quite an asset around here, which I believe is a thought shared by many.” He gave Filanna a wink. “Has she told you about my leaky roof? It is quite a good story, in which she has a lead role.”

The three of them conversed for about twenty minutes before parting ways, but it wasn’t long before Legolas spotted another familiar face in the crowd. Turnion, head of the healers’ guild, was walking by with his children- an adolescent son and a younger daughter.

“You should go over there and talk to him,” Legolas said to Filanna.

“Indeed, because it went so well last time,” she said sarcastically. A few days earlier, she had visited Turnion in his office to speak with him of Haldir’s cause, but it had gone catastrophically. While she presented her case, she came to realize fairly quickly that she didn’t stand a chance of persuading him. He had heard the same arguments many times before, he told her, and unless she could put together a team of healers with the time and skill to take on a project of this magnitude, she was wasting his time as well as her own. By the time she left his office, she felt defeated and near weeping.

“You weren’t actually expecting him to cave at the first attempt, were you?” Legolas said. “He’s a hard-headed one, Filly, but if you want this change to happen, you can’t give up. A little woodpecker can drill holes in the hardest of barks, but it takes time, effort, perseverance. Go over there, let him know that this isn’t over yet. Keep pestering that stubborn elf until his resolve is chipped away.”

Filanna sighed and glanced at Turnion, who was laughing about something his son had said. “This isn’t a good moment, Legolas. He is here with his family, enjoying himself; I’ll only be intruding if I go over there now.”

“That is exactly why the moment is right,” Legolas argued. “He is in a good mood, that is an advantage.”

Filanna shook her head. “I will go and speak to him again, Legolas, but not now. I need a few more days to think of a new strategy.”

“Well, don’t wait too long. I’ll be gone in a few weeks, and I would like to see some progress made before I leave.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “By the by, Filly, you should know that Ada gave me an assignment before I came here. He asked me to assess whether you were miserable here, and to bring you back with me if that were the case.” He smiled when he saw her reaction. “No, there is no need to look so startled. I know that you are thriving here, and I certainly won’t drag you home against your will.”

Filanna grasped her brother’s arm. “I feel torn, Legolas. I do miss Ada and Naneth and everyone else – not to mention the horses and the cats – but I am not ready to leave Lórien. I can’t really explain it, but I feel that I am supposed to be here right now. Ada did well in leaving me here- will you tell him that?”

“I will, and he will be relieved to hear it. He just misses you, I think. He feels keenly that one cub is missing from the nest.”

Filanna smiled sadly. “And Naneth?”

“She misses you too, of course, but she hides it better than Ada.” He chuckled. “I believe she is hoping the Galadhrim will make a lady out of you yet.”

She snorted. “You had better prepare her for disappointment, then. I have never been so free to indulge in my favourite pastimes as I am here.”

“Still, you cannot deny that some changes have occurred.” With a grin, Legolas nodded at her dress. “Not to mention your throng of suitors...”

“Let’s not exaggerate, Legolas. There is only the one, which is more than enough.” She hesitated, blushing. “Speaking of which... there is something I have to ask you. I have need of your expertise as a male.”

He gave her a look of nonplussed amusement. “I am... intrigued.”

“I need you,” Filanna went on quickly before she could change her mind, “to tell me what a male likes, sexually.”

“What?” He lifted his eyebrows, looking less than enthusiastic. “Are you jesting?”

“I wish I was.” Her blush deepened. “I am sorry to ask you this, Legolas, but... a situation may present itself in the near future, and I don’t want to go in completely unprepared.”

“But why me? What about your lady friends, and our sisters? I would think that they had taken care of that part of your education.”

She made a face. “They have tried, and believe me, I wish I had listened. Besides, I would appreciate a male perspective, first-hand knowledge.”

“This is very awkward,” Legolas said with a shake of his head. “I love you, Filly, and there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you, but I can’t be a judge of another male’s preferences.”

“Just tell me which basic rules to follow, so I don’t make a fool out of myself. Please, it won’t take more than five minutes of your time, and I trust no one more than you.” She nudged him in the ribs. “Need I remind you of that one time you stole pastry from the kitchen and I lied to the cook to protect you? You still owe me for that.”

Legolas groaned softly. “It hardly compares, Filly, but all right, I’ll help you.” He looked around, taking her elbow to guide her to a quieter place. “But you have to swear on your life that after today, we will never speak of this again.”

xxx

Later that afternoon, after Filanna had gone to the archery range for Gwenél’s lesson, Legolas continued to stroll by himself. There was much to see and do, and he did not enjoy himself any less on his own, for he found the Galadhrim friendly and outgoing. It was completely by coincidence that he spotted Inis, who sat alone in the shade of a tree, knitting. She was entirely engrossed in it, and so he could observe her without her knowledge, admiring her profile and soft feminine curves. Yes, he found her beauty pleasing, but there was something else that had drawn him to her from the very first moment. He admired her independence, her spirit, and he enjoyed the challenge of making her smile.

“May I sit?” he asked her.

She looked up in surprise. “Legolas, I didn’t realize you were here. Please do.”

He lowered himself onto the grass. “Where is Drauglan?”

“He is playing with his friends somewhere, but I’ll be taking him home soon,” Inis replied. “He hasn’t had his midday meal yet, and a thousand things need doing.”

He watched the rhythmical, repetitive up-and-down of her knitting needles. “Forgive me for asking, but is that a _scarf_ you’re knitting?”

“Drauglan has completely worn down his old one,” she explained in a slightly apologetic tone. “It’ll be winter before you know it.”

He shook his head, smiling slightly. “Your industry is inspirational, Inis, but do you ever take a moment’s rest? You should allow yourself some time to relax now and then.”

“Oh, but knitting is very relaxing.” She gave him a smile. “Of course I am idle sometimes, like everyone else, but I like to keep my hands busy, at least. I don’t have the patience for reading, but as long as my hands are occupied, I am never bored.”

Even when she wasn’t looking at her hands, her fingers continued to move and manipulate the yarn unerringly. He watched them, fascinated by their dexterity. At this rate, Drauglan’s new scarf would be finished before nightfall. “Give me your foot,” he said.

At this, her fingers stopped moving. “Come again?”

“Your foot,” he repeated, holding out his hand. “Don’t look so worried, you’ll get it back once I’m done with it.”

Although she was looking at him as if he was mad, she hesitantly stretched out her leg. When he began untying her sandal, she looked even more doubtful and glanced around uncertainly.

“Relax,” he said as he placed her now bare foot on his thigh, toes pointing upwards. “No one is watching.”

“There, you are wrong,” Inis said quietly. “Everyone watches you, all the time. Have you not noticed?”

“It is of no importance.” He took her foot between his hands and began to rub the sole, gently applying pressure with his thumbs.

“Oh,” she said, lowering her hands into her lap. “That is actually quite nice. But Drauglan- he might come back, I...”

“He is playing with his friends,” Legolas pointed out. “Do you really think he will remember the time and come back on his own accord?”

She laughed softly at that, observing him for a while. “I haven’t seen you very often this past week,” she remarked.

He took a few moments to respond. “I am sorry for that. There are reasons for my absence, which I cannot explain, but I hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression. I’m still available for companionship, if you want me to be.” He looked up and smiled. “For now, I’d just like to sit here and rub this lovely little foot, if that’s all right. You can even continue your knitting, if you wish.”

“No, I suppose I can put it away for a while.” She finished up and put her knitting equipment aside. “An ellon who gives foot rubs without being asked is a rare find, and shall have nothing less than my undivided attention.”

xxx

As the warden selections headed into their second week, Filanna finally received the joyful news that her wrist was sufficiently healed for the bandage to come off. Although no longer painful, the joint had not yet regained its full range of motion, so the healer instructed her to increase its use slowly and sensibly and to continue her daily exercises. She could start going back to work, but she was not to do any heavy lifting yet.

“I could go on telling you what to do and what not to do,” the healer said, “but no one knows your body better than you do. If you pay attention to the signs it gives you, you will know what it needs.”

Filanna promised to faithfully follow all instructions and left the healers’ quarters in high spirits. More than anything else, she wanted to find Haldir and tell him the good news, but as this was not an option, she went to the stables instead and told Felegron she wanted to resume her duties as soon as possible. They agreed on short shifts of two hours, starting the next day. Then she wrote a short, cryptic note which she pushed underneath the front door of Haldir’s talan. With his powers of perception, he would no doubt read between the lines and know that it was an open invitation to come and spend the night at her talan, something he hadn’t done since the warden selections began. The healer had told her to listen to her body, and she intended to put that advice into practice as best she knew how.

The days went slowly by, and her high hopes gradually deflated. She saw him every day in the arena, from a distance, but he did not come to her talan at night, nor did he send word that he would. She tried to take it in her stride, reminding herself that he had other things on his mind right now, but after four days of waiting for a sign of life her understanding began to wear thin. She had made it clear that she was available, which was quite a step for her; was it too much to ask that he at least write her a note? It would only take him a minute and save her a great deal of fretting.

At the end of the fourth day, Filanna lay in bed, still waiting for the knock on the door that didn’t come. She was restless and couldn’t sleep, her mind occupied with him and what they might be doing if only he had bothered to show. Her hand wandered between her thighs, trying to recreate some of the pleasure he had given her, but with little success. Frustrated – with him as well as with herself – she cast the sheets aside and got out of bed.

Although she was considered the timid one of the family, there was one trait Filanna had in common with almost all of her siblings: once she decided she wanted something, she had only so much patience to give, and if the object of her desires didn’t come to her quickly enough she would damn well go out and get it herself. Putting on a pair of sandals and using a shawl to cover her shoulders, she set out for Haldir’s talan. It was a short walk and the hour was late, so she could pass through the city virtually unseen. She was sure she would have drawn a reasonable amount of attention otherwise.

As she knocked on his door, she could not help but be reminded of the first time she had stood on his doorstep. On that particular occasion, he had come to the door bare-chested, the musky scent of sex still fresh upon his skin. Unfairly, the memory only made her angrier than she already was.

He answered the door, smiling at her in surprise. “Filanna, good evening. What brings you here at this hour?”

“You made a promise,” she said without preamble. “You would lie with me once I was healed, that was what you said, and I haven’t been able to think of anything else ever since. I know you have other priorities to attend to, but it is your fault that I am feeling this way, damn you. How much longer are you going to make me wait? I left you a note four days ago, and you haven’t even bothered to respond.”

While she ranted thus, Haldir looked increasingly confused. “I... am sorry, but I found your note only this morning. It was small, the draught must have swept it under the rug. Of course I would have accepted your titillating invitation as soon as I could, but I didn’t realize your need had become that dire.”

“Oh,” Filanna said sheepishly. Her anger deflated and left her feeling foolish. The thought that he might not have found her note hadn’t even occurred to her. “It seems I have drawn my conclusions too hastily, as usual. I just couldn’t understand why I didn’t hear from you; I feared you might have lost interest.”

“In you?” He shook his head and said in lowered voice, “Filanna, I thought you knew better. There is a reason I haven’t been able to spend time with you, as you know. It doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t rather be with you if circumstances allowed.”

She blushed. “I’m sorry. I just miss being with you, Haldir, and you have yourself to blame for that. It was a cruel trick to whet my appetite like that the last time we were together, knowing that it could be two weeks before-”

Suddenly the door opened wider, and to Filanna’s bemusement a smiling Rúmil appeared beside his brother. “Well,” he said lightly, “if this doesn’t go to show that all isn’t fair in life, I don’t know what does. I wish beautiful ellith came knocking on _my_ door like that, Haldir. You must tell me your secret someday.”

Haldir said nothing, looking simultaneously annoyed and a little embarrassed. Filanna managed a weak, “Hello, Rúmil. I did not know you had returned.”

“I have, today,” he said, unfazed by the awkward situation in which the three of them now found themselves. “But, having spent a pleasant few hours in my brother’s company, I will now discreetly and graciously make myself scarce. I know when I am superfluous.” He smacked Haldir’s shoulder amicably and stepped outside, pausing to kiss Filanna’s blushing cheek. “Until next time, dear lady.” Then, with a wink, he took his leave and disappeared into the balmy night.

“Valar, I’m sorry about that,” Filanna murmured, barely daring to look at Haldir’s face. “I didn’t mean to cause you embarrassment.”

He gave no reply, but the look in his eyes reassured her that he wasn’t going to scold her for her blunders, although he certainly had the right. Instead he took a step back, still holding the door wide open. “Well?” He smiled slightly. “Would you like to come in, or not?”

xxx

At that very moment, the third and youngest brother was returning home after a pleasant evening at the tavern. Orophin was not quite drunk, but just numb enough not to be bothered by the heavy sword that banged against his already-sore thigh with every step he took. He was, quite frankly, beginning to look forward to the moment he could hand the blasted thing over to Celeborn once more. It hadn’t gotten him half as much female attention as he had hoped, and he had to constantly take care not to trip over it or let it bump into something. It was more a nuisance than anything else, but Orophin knew better than to speak that thought out loud, least of all to Haldir. His older brother had never thought him responsible enough for the job, but in just a few short days he would have to take back his words and eat them, too.

As he crossed one of the public flets, Orophin saw movement from the corner of his eye and slowed his step, surprised to see an elleth crouching on all fours and muttering to herself.

“Milady?” he said, taking a few steps in her direction. “Is there a problem?”

She seemed to startle, and she got up on her feet quickly and curtseyed. “Thank you, but it is nothing important,” she said demurely. “I lost my earring here somewhere, and I can’t seem to find it. I ought to wait for daylight, perhaps, but these earrings were a gift from a dear aunt. I’ll not sleep, I’m afraid, until I find it.”

Orophin came closer, his eyes searching the ground. “What does it look like?”

“Silver, with a little red ruby.” She turned her head to show him the remaining earring. He couldn’t help noticing that she had beautiful ears, and a long graceful neck. “Can you see it?”

It took Orophin’s trained eyes only a half a minute to spot a glimmer of silver on the floor, and he stooped down and offered the lost treasure to the elleth, who beamed and thanked him extensively. She even addressed him by his name, which surprised him. “Have we met before?” he asked her.

She smiled. “Unfortunately no, but who wouldn’t know the keeper of the sword by name?”

Vastly pleased with the compliment, Orophin was about to reply when he found himself distracted, the hairs at the back of his neck standing up as he got the sudden feeling that he was being watched. As a warden, he had sharper senses than most other elves, and the warnings they gave him were usually accurate. He looked around, but the flet was empty and the only pair eyes of eyes glinting between the foliage belonged to an owl.

“Say, Orophin...” The elleth took a step closer and touched his arm, which caused his attention to shift back to her. He knew a flirtatious tone when he heard one, and yes, he was definitely intrigued. “I was on my way to the pond. It is such a lovely night, and I love to swim with only the moon and stars for company. I wouldn’t normally be this forward, but it almost seems as though we were destined to meet tonight. Would you like to join me?”

Orophin smiled, unconsciously growing a little taller. Now this was more like it! With his left hand, he discreetly touched the hilt of the sword, as if to thank it for this lucky turn.

“Why, certainly,” he said, courteously offering her his right arm. “I would like that very much, indeed.”

xxx

Once she was inside Haldir’s talan, Filanna came to realize that she hadn’t given much thought to what should happen next. Naively, she had assumed – and hoped – that he would take it from there, but for the time being, he seemed too taken aback to do much at all. She couldn’t blame him. Showing up at his doorstep unannounced and demanding that he lie with her- she had not known that she was capable of such brazenness.

“Can I offer you anything?” Haldir asked her as he took her shawl and hung it by the door. “I have a red Dorwinion, which Rúmil seemed to like well enough.”

She nodded, grateful for the suggestion; not because she was particularly thirsty for wine, but it would give her hands something to do. “I would love some.”

As he went to fetch the wine, she found that it pleased her to observe him in his own surroundings, something she had not been able to do before. His talan was spacious, and everything that Orophin’s was not: tidy, well-maintained, and furnished with only the bare essentials. She remarked on that when he returned with the wine, at which he smiled and said, “I need little for my comfort. But I do regret not having a more worthy seat to offer you.”

“No matter,” she said, sitting down at the dining table as he did likewise. “I do not stand on luxury, as you well know.” She took her cup of wine and gazed into it for a while before saying, “I confess I feel somewhat embarrassed for being here. I did not mean for your brother to hear those things.”

“There is no need for embarrassment. Straightforwardness is a trait I can appreciate in a female.” He smiled. “You may always speak frankly to me of your thoughts and desires, Filanna. I would be most upset if you felt you had to hide them from me.”

She took small sips of her wine, observing that his cup remained untouched. “Do you not drink?”

“I’ve already had my fair share when Rúmil was here,” he replied. “I am not an excessive drinker. Alcohol wreaks havoc on the mind, and I wish to be clear-headed for what is to follow.”

“It helps soothe the nerves, though,” Filanna said. “Something I find particularly useful at this time, I must say.”

“You do not seem very nervous,” he observed.

“Don’t let appearances fool you.” She sighed and put her cup on the table. “The fact that I came here willingly does not mean that I am without trepidation. Surely you have dealt with terrified innocents before?”

“Yes, it is quite normal to feel that way.” He looked away briefly. “But in truth, I haven’t taken a female’s maidenhead in eons.”

“Why not?”

There was a short silence. “I generally prefer the company of a more experienced partner. And in my view – though others may disagree – sexual initiation is not to be taken lightly. Most ellith choose their first lover with great care, and it is an honour to be chosen, but one should not take an elleth’s virginity unless-” He trailed off, appearing uncomfortable, and for a moment she thought he wasn’t going to finish. “Unless one is prepared to accept her heart, as well.”

As they gazed at one another, Filanna saw something in his eyes that surprised her. Possibly for the first time since she had met him, his gaze betrayed vulnerability, even a touch of fear. Seeing it touched something deep within her.

“I can still leave, if you wish,” she said quietly.

“No,” he said acutely, in a voice that didn’t sound quite like his own. “No, stay. You cannot walk in here in your flimsy nightgown and then expect me to let you go again. You cannot actually be that cruel.”

“Very well, there is no need to beg.” She smiled with relief and rose, crossing the distance between them. Somehow she felt more confident knowing that he was nervous also, and she relished the way he looked at her; it made her feel beautiful, desirable even. Before he had a chance to speak, she hoisted her long gown up to her thighs and straddled him, winding her arms around his neck. “This is not hardship for you then?” she asked him teasingly. “To bed an elleth with no sexual expertise to speak of?”

“You know that it is not.” His voice was low. “As Elbereth is my witness, I’ve desired this since first I saw you.”

Filanna, who felt her pulse quickening, took a moment to collect herself and to decide on her next move. Where foreplay was concerned, she had no idea what he would enjoy, but she wasn’t afraid to use her imagination. She slid her finger underneath the top button of his tunic and flicked it open, and the next as well. A good start, she decided as she then put her hand underneath the supple fabric to caress his skin, his firm chest.

He watched her intently, his hands following the curve of her legs, sliding from her calves to her thighs. “Your legs are to die for,” he whispered, without a trace of irony. “Did you know that?”

She smiled and leaned in to kiss him. It pleased her when he said things like that, there was no use in denying it. The past few months in Lórien had changed her to such a degree that she could now accept such compliments graciously, which would not have been the case a year ago. In this very moment, feeling the full depth of his longing for her, she was not even afraid to give her own desires free rein and to follow her impulses. While they still kissed, deeply and hotly, she lowered her hand and placed it on his groin.

It was a bold move, and it clearly came as a surprise to him. He gave a muffled groan and squirmed when she applied gentle pressure on him, making the chair creak under the strain of their combined weight.

“How long since someone touched you like this?” she asked softly, leaning her forehead against his.

It took him a moment to form a response. “Eru, I don’t know. I’ve stopped keeping count. Too long, though.”

Using the softest part of her palm, she rubbed him through the cloth of his breeches, feeling the flesh underneath harden in response. It excited her and increased her longing for him. The poor chair protested again as Haldir reflexively pushed his hips upwards to meet her touch, his half-lidded eyes darkening with desire. “Your agony ends tonight,” she told him huskily. “Say the word and I’m yours.”

“Valar.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “Stop this seduction at once, lady, else you’ll find that this is over before it has even begun.”

She did as he asked. “Tell me what you require, then.”

He kissed her shoulders and her neck, his hands so high on her waist that his thumbs grazed her breasts. “I require that we continue this in my bed,” he murmured against her throat. “And I require you to take off your gown. Tonight I want to see you, all of you.” He lowered his hands to her thighs. “Put your arms around my neck.”

She obeyed, letting out a small cry of surprise when he took hold of her and rose from the chair. Then, instead of putting her down, he carried her across the floor towards what had to be his bedchamber. She felt a little silly, being carried to his bed like this, but she knew better than to waste her breath on protests.

His bedchamber was separated from the main room only by a curtain; she felt the cloth grazing her back as he carefully carried her inside. The room was humbly furnished like the rest of his abode, but the bed looked like it had ample space and comfort to offer. Haldir put her down beside it, but his arms did not release her. His mouth found hers and he kissed her deeply, possessively almost, holding her against him. At the same time, she tried to unbutton his shirt further but their bodies were so tightly pressed together that it was all but impossible. In the end, he saved her the trouble by pulling the garment over his head and tossing it aside. “Lie down,” he said, “make yourself comfortable. I’ll follow very shortly.”

She slid between the thin summer sheets, watching tremulously as he continued to disrobe. The knots that held his breeches in place came loose within moments, and before long he joined her in the bed fully naked, his sex still in a formidable state of arousal that made it look all the more intimidating. She tried not to stare, but her face must have betrayed her, for he flicked her cheek gently. “You still want to proceed?”

She nodded and offered him a crooked smile. “You’ll make it worth the while, won’t you?”

“On my honour, I will.” He braced his hands on the mattress, one on either side of her, and gave her a long, slow kiss which she readily returned. She relaxed into the kiss and brought up her hands to stroke his flanks, sliding her arms around his waist. His nakedness excited her, as did the muscles she felt underneath her palms, flexing with his every move. A few times, she felt his arousal against her thigh, and the responding tingle in her own belly. His body was so different from her own, so unfamiliar still, but she was beginning to acknowledge just how attracted she was to him.

When Haldir finally pulled back from the kiss, they were both breathing heavily, and their eye contact was so intense that Filanna felt her heart flutter in her chest. Even if she had doubted it, the look in his eyes told her that he was committed to making this experience a pleasurable one.

He pressed further south, tracing her neck and collarbone with his mouth, until he encountered the fabric of her nightgown. He eased one strap down her shoulder, kissing her skin as he went. When one of his hands cupped her breast unexpectedly and his thumb stroked the nipple through the fabric, a moan of surprise escaped her and she arched up into his touch, heat blooming between her legs almost instantaneously. It was amusing to her that although her mind may still have its reservations about all this, her body apparently did not share those at all. But when he inched her gown further down her chest, she froze involuntarily.

“Shy again?” he observed. “I had not expected that, after what you did to me on that chair. I saw a whole new Filanna emerging there, one I would like to become better acquainted with.”

She blushed in the dark. “I’m sorry. My body has always been my own so far, I’m not used to sharing it.”

“I know, little bird.” He caressed her shoulder and kissed her neck attentively. “Come, let’s try something different.”

She watched uncertainly as he moved away and reclined into the pillows beside her. “We’ll trade places,” he explained, taking her hand and giving it a tug. “Come, don’t be embarrassed.”

She did as he suggested and straddled him, bracing her hands on his shoulders. “I think too much, don’t I? That is my problem. I think too much and I don’t know how to relinquish control.”

“I believe I know just the way to remedy that.” Slowly and purposefully, he licked his thumb, gazing at her in a meaningful way that made her tremble with anticipation. Still, she forced herself to keep his gaze while he reached underneath her gown and slid his hand up her inner thigh. His eyes, she found, provided a pleasant point of focus in moments like this, like a lighthouse in the midst of a storm. When he pressed against her center, she sighed deeply and pushed her hips forward to encourage him.

Oddly, she did feel bolder in this position, and they soon found a rhythm that worked well for both of them, his expert touch quickly causing her pleasure to build. After a while, he let one of his fingers enter her and began stretching her gently from the inside. It was nothing compared to the length and girth she would have to accommodate later on, but she firmly pushed that thought away.

“You are very wet,” he said, his voice a little tight.

“Is – that – good?” she panted.

“It is very good... very encouraging.” He moved his other hand and suddenly one of her breasts was exposed, but before she had time to react, he leaned in swiftly and took her nipple into his mouth. She cried out and jumped at the pleasurable sensation of it, but when his tongue began making the same circling movements as his thumb, she pulled back involuntarily. This caused him to disengage with a smacking sound of the lips that was almost comical to hear.

“What’s the matter?” He looked up in alarm, misunderstanding her reaction. “Do I not give you pleasure?”

She looked sheepish. “Very much so. I just continue to be amazed by the things I didn’t know about my own body.” To reassure him, she slowly began moving against his hand again, this time not flinching when he bared her other breast also. The fabric of her gown slid down and pooled around her waist.

“Your breasts...” he murmured against her throat while his free hand cupped one half of her modest bosom, rubbing the nipple to hardness. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but... Eru, they are exquisite.”

She squirmed and threw her head back when his mouth found her other nipple once more. The ache between her legs built to an unbearable high, and she was now moving with abandon, encouraging him with her body as well as with her voice. Every stroke of his fingers and tongue stoked the fire within, effortlessly exploiting the sensitive points of her body with which she was still so unfamiliar. She was past all shyness and restraint; now she just needed the completion, needed it bad. “Haldir,” she panted eventually, “Almost… I’m almost there!”

“Excellent,” he said thickly. “Don’t fight it. Just let it happen.”

She couldn’t have stopped her climax even if she’d wanted to. She gave a loud wail and pressed herself against him as the first wave hit her full-force, her fingers and nails digging hard into his deltoids. The sensation was incredible, and he seemed intent on drawing it out as long as possible, his fingers continuing to stroke her gently while she trembled and rode out her orgasm with her head against his shoulder. In that moment, she felt she couldn’t be close enough to him, and even long after her heart’s pounding rhythm had normalised and mad lust had made way for dozy contentment, she remained in that very comfortable position, breathing in his scent and savouring the sense of belonging that accompanied these moments. She had made herself truly vulnerable, she had given herself in ways that until recently had seemed impossible, but it was all good. Haldir would never take advantage, never betray her trust.

After a while, she became aware that his hard, male flesh was pressing against her inner thigh, and she moved back a little to gaze at it. Erect and slightly curved, it looked no less intimidating than before, but she now felt a distinct urge to become better acquainted with this strange, exciting part of him. She reached down with one hand and, remembering the tips Legolas had given her, took him in a firmer grip than she would have felt comfortable doing otherwise. He was watching her, and gave a little nod of encouragement when she looked at him to gauge his reaction.

Her first strokes were tentative, faltering, but rather than pointing that out to her, Haldir let her experiment and find her rhythm on her own. When she did get it right, his groans encouraged her, gradually giving her an understanding of what he enjoyed. Once she felt confident enough she let her other hand join as well, and was rewarded with a low groan that seemed to come from the very depths of his being. “Good?” she couldn’t resist asking.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop.” He was regarding her with half-lidded eyes, his hands gripping her thighs. “I have so longed for your touch, Filanna. A little faster, now. Long, tight strokes... like that, exactly like that!”

Filanna became aware that the tip of his erection was leaking pearly white fluid, and she studied this new phenomenon with fascination. The male sex was truly unlike anything she had ever seen before, but she thought she might come to love it in due time. Every now and then, she let one hand wander away from his shaft to caress other parts of his body-- his chest and nipples, his abdomen and eventually his testicles. Haldir, meanwhile, was in a frenzy of pleasure, breathing hard and completely surrendered to her touch. He seemed to trust her implicitly, and she thought his abandon beautiful, moving, exciting even. Why should she not show him the same trust in return? She paused to pull her nightgown over her head, tossing it aside without care. “I’m yours, if you want me,” she told him.

“I do.” His hand brushed hair away from her neck, following the curve of her shoulder. His eyes were, despite his obvious desire, gentle. “I want nothing more than to make love to you wholly and fully. And I normally wouldn’t mind for you to stay on top, but this position isn’t adequate for a first-time coupling, Filanna. There are things that I can do to minimize your discomfort, but for that I need you to lie down. Do you mind?”

She gave him a smile, touched by his consideration. “No, Haldir, that will be fine. I trust you, so tell me what you need.”

His hand cupped the back of her neck and pulled her gently closer. “A kiss would be a good start.”

She obeyed willingly, swaying against him and giving him a deep, attentive kiss she hoped would stick in his memory for a long time to come. Then, after he had instructed her to lie down comfortably, he knelt between her thighs and spent a few minutes touching and caressing her in all the right places, making sure she was as ready as she could be. It amazed her that he could make her feel this way so soon after her earlier climax, and once her blood was on fire yet again, he did the unthinkable and dipped his head between her legs. She could feel his fingers spreading her, opening her up for his tongue and lips, and the sensation was almost too much. Again she ached for completion, but of a different kind this time. “Now,” she pleaded ineloquently, her fingers clawing at his shoulders. “Oh, Haldir. I need you, now.”

Thankfully he complied without delay, gently pushing her legs up and apart so that she was completely open to him. “This will be uncomfortable at first,” he warned as he positioned himself for entry. “You may feel the urge to resist, but try to relax and breathe through it. It will get better very soon, I promise.”

She nodded, eager to have her desire fulfilled at last, but her muscles protested involuntarily when he began to push against her. She had conveniently forgotten how large he was, and even as he entered her oh so carefully, she had to fight the urge to push him off her. She averted her gaze, struggling to suppress the panic that rose within.

“No, look into my eyes.” He grew still immediately, his tone soft yet urgent. “We are doing this together, Filanna, don’t pull away from me now. Look into my eyes.”

She obeyed, releasing a shaky breath as their gazes reconnected. As before, she found something in his eyes that she could grasp, a lifeline in moments of turmoil. It reassured her, and once he felt that she had regained her calm, he advanced further, murmuring sweet encouragements as he did so. “It’ll get a little worse before it gets better, but I’ll guide you through it. Trust me.”

The moment her natural defences were breached, she felt an acute, pinching pain deep within, and it scared her a little bit despite his reassurances. Although she managed to hold his gaze this time, she could not stop the whimper that escaped her lips, nor the tears that sprang to her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he breathed, stroking her cheek apologetically. “Almost there, sweet one, I swear.”

The burning sensation within was slow to fade, but Filanna did not give another peep because she did not want to make him feel worse than he already did. She was beginning to understand why he usually did not bed innocents, and even in this moment, she was glad that he had made an exception this time, that she was doing this with him.

Once he was fully sheathed, he kept still to let her adjust, murmuring endearments and bestowing gentle kisses on her face. She was breathing shallowly, trying to get accustomed to the feeling of him inside her, so foreign and unfamiliar.

“Are you well?” he asked, kissing the corner of her mouth softly. “Your silence unsettles me, dearest. Will you not say something?”

“Yes, I’m well.” She spent a few moments looking into his eyes, overwhelmed by the tenderness in his gaze. “You have a beautiful heart, Haldir, and I was a fool for not noticing sooner. Being with you makes me very happy.”

She felt a little self-conscious for saying something so gushy, but his brilliant smile took most of her embarrassment away. She gave him a smile in return and lifted her knees a little higher, angling her pelvis against him. “Will you not make love to me now, my lord Marchwarden?” she near-purred.

His eyes darkened in response. “With pleasure,” he growled as he rocked back on his heels, almost breaking the connection. He shifted slightly, then pushed back in in one long stroke.

“Oh,” she sighed. The sensation was different this time, less pain and more pleasure, and it got better with every stroke. There was no urgency in his movements as of yet, and she found that she began to enjoy the sensation of him moving inside her. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, while with her hands she held on to his biceps. Before long her body was welcoming him inside her, even rising up to meet his languid strokes and encouraging him to go faster.

“Better, yes?” He chuckled low, adjusting his angle of entry before driving himself into her with a little more force. It drew a groan from them both, and Haldir braced himself on both hands as he began swivelling his hips in a way that caused stars to flash before her eyes. Dear Lord Eru, but he did that well!

She was quickly losing herself in the sensations, but Haldir’s attentive eyes never left hers. He was cataloguing her responses, she could tell, storing them away in his memory for future reference. He alternated long strokes with brief, punctuated ones, each hitting the right spot, and she voiced her appreciation continuously and shamelessly, past caring about her dignity.

Suddenly, without warning, he stopped moving. What was more, he sat back, although they remained physically connected, leaving her feeling bereft and more than a little frustrated. Squirming with unfulfilled lust, she gazed at him uncomprehendingly, but something in his eyes stopped her from asking an explanation.

“Valar, how beautiful you are.” He reached out a hand and began touching her with open admiration. His fingers travelled across her breast, playing briefly with her nipple, before moving across her ribs to her belly. She shifted restlessly and arched up to meet his touch. “You are close, aren’t you?” he murmured.

“I _was_ ,” she replied, somewhat ironically.

He laughed softly. “I was getting pretty close, myself. I stopped while I still could to memorize this moment. Later, when I’m back at the fences, I want to be able to relive all of this, to close my eyes and smell again the scent of your skin, to feel the heat of you enveloping me once more. Those are things worth remembering.”

Her spirits sank a little at that. The thought that he would have to resume his duties at the border was one she had deliberately kept at a distance, but as the warden selections drew to an end, so did his furlough. Very soon he would be gone, and three weeks was not a short time, even to one immortal.

“Don’t be sad, lady.” He leaned forward to kiss her gently, apologetically. “My roster is what it is, but every shift comes to an end. And I will enjoy coming back to these eyes, these lips.” He kissed her again, more deeply. “These arms. These sweet breasts...” He went on, touching and kissing body parts as he named them. She sighed and closed her eyes, her body quickly warming up to him once more.

“And this,” he murmured, his thumb finding her pleasure spot and pressing it teasingly while he punctuated with a shallow thrust of his hips. “I hope to find this waiting for me at my next return.”

She groaned and giggled at the same time. “Haldir, for shame. You are making me blush.”

Slowly, holding her firmly by the hips, he began making love to her again, although the mood appeared to have changed somewhat. His words had reminded them both to savour the moment, to try and manipulate time before it inevitably separated them. The urgency momentarily gone, they moved slowly and in almost complete silence, never breaking eye contact. It was strangely beautiful, and Filanna was sure that she would remember this moment for the rest of her days, but after a minute or two the pace and intent of Haldir’s movements changed once more. His self-restraint was starting to show cracks, and his thrusts gradually became harder and more frenzied. Every time his hips slammed forward, the ache in her lower belly coiled tighter and tighter, until she needed the relief so desperately she was begging him for it in uncensored terms. Eager to comply, Haldir increased the force of his thrusts one last time, driving himself deeply into her willing body.

Climax struck her first, and she cried out his name and held on to him as if for dear life while her body shook with the force of it, a helpless little vessel adrift on a stormy sea of pleasure. He held momentarily still, allowing her time to ride it out, but once the tension left her body he went on to pursue his own completion. It took only a few more strokes before he went rigid, emitting a low, primal grunt as he poured himself out inside her. He completed with a few slow thrusts, until he had nothing left to give, and then went limp on top of her.

As he lay recovering in her arms – miraculously without crushing her with his weight – Filanna felt, to her own abject horror, tears welling in her eyes. She didn’t want to be the kind of elleth who broke down and cried in her first lover’s arms, and she did her best to suppress her sniffles without alerting him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t so easily fooled.

“You can cry, if you need to.” He propped himself up on one elbow and caressed her face gently. “It is perfectly normal... and I promise you I will not tell a soul.”

She laughed and sobbed simultaneously, reaching up to embrace him with everything she had. She was caught completely off-guard by the emotional impact of what had just happened, and she was reminded of what he had said earlier that night. _One should not take an elleth’s virginity unless one is prepared to accept her heart as well._

Indeed, her virginity was not the only thing she had lost tonight, but that thought didn’t scare her half as much as the realization that for the very first time since she came to the Golden Wood, she truly began to resent the idea of returning to Mirkwood.

This force, whatever it was, might just be strong enough to do the one thing she had thought impossible, and separate her from her family.


	26. The Royal Treatment

Waking up, Filanna found herself in unfamiliar surroundings but in familiar company. Haldir, still asleep, lay on his stomach beside her, his unbraided hair fanning out over his broad shoulders, his face turned away. His breathing was even and deep. The sheets covered him only from the waist down, and she noted, not entirely without embarrassment, the scratches her nails had left on him in the fury of passion. Her body bore some evidence of its own, and when she carefully got out of bed, stooping to pick up her nightgown, she couldn’t help wincing in discomfort. It seemed that vigorous lovemaking came with a price, but it was a small one, and she caught herself smiling as she quietly left the room in search of some water.

After she had freshened up and cleansed herself, she went on to nose around the kitchen, hoping to find something that could serve as a breakfast for herself and her brand-new lover. She wished she could surprise him with some freshly baked buns, but she dared not go to the market wearing only her nightgown. If only she had had the presence of mind to bring a set of clothes with her the night before!

She managed to put together a platter of fruit, nuts and some bread from the day before. In one of the cupboards she found fragrant tea leaves, so she filled the kettle with water and lit the stove. She rather enjoyed busying herself like this, even caught herself softly singing a tune she had picked up somewhere, but she stopped and spun around abruptly when a creaking of the floorboards startled her.

“Don’t stop.” Haldir smiled at her from the doorway in which he stood, leaning sideways against the post with his arms crossed. “Your voice... I have never heard you sing before.”

She smiled sheepishly and stared at him despite her best efforts not to act awestruck. There wasn’t a stitch of clothing on him, yet he stood before her unashamed, the sight of his sleek and muscular form causing a tingle of excitement between her legs. Elbereth, how had she managed to ensnare such a spectacular specimen?

After a few moments she grew fidgety under his appraising gaze, at which point he came over to gather her in his arms. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked her, in a tone that was gentle and private, like a caress.

“I’m feeling very well,” she replied truthfully, closing her eyes and leaning into him slightly. “I feel wonderful.”

“I, as well.” He nuzzled her cheek and her neck. “Lady, you smell delicious.”

She sighed, basking in the warm affection he so generously bestowed on her. Suddenly becoming aware of her arms, she lifted them and put them around his waist. It felt completely natural to hold him and stand like this, but after a minute or so she heard herself asking, “Haldir, what happens next?”

“Hmmm.” He seemed to give the question some serious consideration, though his tone remained light. “I suppose we could go back to bed and continue where we left off. Breakfast can wait.”

She smiled. “Breakfast can, but Felegron can’t, I’m afraid. He expects absolute punctuality from all his workers, and I’d rather not risk one of his scoldings. Besides, I’m still sore and aching from the gentle attentions you bestowed on me last night.”

“You are?” He drew back slightly in alarm, but relaxed when he saw her smile. “I am sorry for your discomfort. As careful as I have tried to be, I may have gotten a little carried away at some point.”

“Don’t say that. It is a small price and I pay it gladly.” A sigh escaped her when he began kissing her neck, his hands moving down her back towards her buttocks. “But I meant something different. What happens after this, after today?”

He paused and drew back again to meet her eyes, looking genuinely puzzled. “What do you mean? Nothing need change, in my opinion, although I hope you’ve become enthused to the idea of sharing my bed on a more regular basis. That I would like above all things.”

She gave him as reproachful a look as she could muster, although she could only reply in the affirmative. “Can it really be that simple?”

He caressed her chin with his thumb, gazing earnestly into her eyes. “Tell me then, what would _you_ like to happen?”

Filanna sighed, realizing that she didn’t really want to have this conversation, not this morning at least. Perhaps she should follow his lead and, for now, ignore the complications they might yet encounter somewhere along the way. It was, in any case, too early to start thinking of a possible return to Mirkwood, especially with her horse injured. She could easily delay the decision until the spring, and it was entirely possible that he would tire of her before then. Such things happened, after all.

“Do you want to keep us a secret?” she asked him instead. “I know you have a strong need for privacy...”

He shook his head. “You needn’t broadcast the news to all and sundry, but I don’t mind if you share it with your close friends, as long as you practise a little discretion.” He paused, giving her a slight smile. “I do not care much for the idea of our most private moments being discussed and analysed outside of these walls. Especially if you have any complaints, I hope you will come to me first.”

She laughed at that. “Have I so far given you any reason to believe me dissatisfied?”

“No, your appreciation has been well-articulated and hard to miss.” He chuckled low as he backed her up against the table, leaning in closely so as to make her aware of his growing excitement. “Sweet one,” he murmured thickly into her ear, “if it is breakfast you want, breakfast we shall have. But my appetite is of a different kind, and if you think your body is up to the task, I would very much like to make love with you again.”

She groaned involuntarily, feeling her body respond to him. In a distant corner of her mind, she knew that she ought to be sensible and start making preparations for the day – breakfast, a bath and a change of clothes, in that order – but being sensible had never seemed more unappealing. Spellbound by the need in his eyes, she did not even think to protest when he slipped his fingers underneath her shoulder straps. The next moment, her gown hit the floor and Haldir sank to his knees in front of her. She froze impulsively, unable to suppress her body’s first reaction to being thus exposed, but couldn’t stop watching as he nudged her legs apart, his fingers touching her gently, his mouth close behind.

Behind them on the stove, the kettle began to whistle and was ignored.

***

Filanna arrived at the stables looking every bit as flustered and dishevelled as she felt. Although she had forgone her morning bath in order to win some time, she was still almost a half hour late, an offense she knew would not go unnoticed. She quietly got to work, but it wasn’t long before Felegron caught sight of her. Thankfully, he appeared to be in a forgiving mood.

“Good morning, Filanna,” he called to her in a jovial tone, and loud enough for everyone else to hear. “So you decided to join us after all. Couldn’t find your way out the door this morning?”

“I’m sorry, Felegron,” she said bashfully as she went over to him. “There is no excuse for my tardiness, and it won’t happen again.”

“I count on it.” He gazed at her for a moment, taking in her rumpled appearance. “Are you well? You look like a storm blew you here.”

She couldn’t help blushing as she ran her hands through her hair. “I... I didn’t have a lot of time for grooming this morning.”

A faint smile of amusement appeared on Felegron’s face, and she began to feel as transparent as glass. Fortunately, he did not linger on the matter. “You have experience with lungeing, if I remember correctly?” he asked her unexpectedly.

“I do.”

“Drop what you’re doing, then, and take Odaragar for a few turns of the outside pen. Lord Celeborn hasn’t had time to ride him this last week, and he needs some exercise to drain him of his excess energy. Work him hard, so he doesn’t give us any more trouble today.”

She gave him a suspicious look. “Why are you being nice? I expected to be chewed out for being late, yet instead you assign me the best horse in the stable.”

“I am not giving you the royal treatment, if that is what you are implying.” He raised one eyebrow. “Lungeing is relatively light work, which won’t put too much strain on your arm, and more importantly, Odaragar accepts your guidance. Do you want the task, or shall I give it to someone else?”

“I do want it,” Filanna said quickly. “I’ll go and prepare him right now. Thank you, Felegron.”

He patted her shoulder lightly before turning away. “It is good to have you back with us, Filanna.”

Over the course of the past months, Filanna had handled Odaragar regularly and gradually earned his trust. He was considered by many to be a difficult horse, for he had a proud and temperamental character, but he had quickly become one of Filanna’s favourites. She could not take her eyes off him as he trotted in wide circles around her at the end of the lunge line. He had a fluid natural gait that was a joy to watch, and his strong muscles bounced and rolled underneath his shiny coat. He was simply everything a horse should be, a true stallion in his prime, and Filanna never tired of watching him.

Of course, it wasn’t long before her thoughts strayed back to Haldir and the night that lay behind her; how gentle and considerate he had been, and how much she had – eventually – enjoyed making love with him. At this moment, in the light of day, she blushed to think of some of the things they had done, but she also knew that she would do them again in a heartbeat, and sooner rather than later.

The one thing she would rather forget were the moments she had spent weeping in his arms. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked her the reason, and she wasn’t sure she could have explained it if he had. Last night she had been given some understanding of what he had come to mean to her, and even that glimpse of insight had overwhelmed and frightened her. She did not know what the future had in store for them, but she did know one thing: she had irrevocably changed. She could not go back to Mirkwood and simply pick up the threads of her old life, not after she had tasted freedom in Lothlórien. Something would have to change, for the part she was expected to play at court would suit her even less now than it had before.

She worked Odaragar intensively for about twenty minutes before bringing down the pace, allowing him to gradually cool down. Although he enjoyed the exercise and even had energy left, he responded to her every command without giving her trouble. It struck her as odd, that she felt so confident in the presence of a near-wild horse that was many times heavier and stronger than she, while being confronted with an adversary like Turnion caused her to feel small and insignificant. If only he was a horse, she would have him eating out of her hand in no time! The thought made her smile-- but it also gave her an idea.

How many times had she fallen off a horse? Too many to count, yet she had always climbed back on immediately, if she was physically able to. Why should this be any different? The fact that her plight had failed to move Turnion last time only meant that she would have to try harder in the future. And more than anything, she had to believe in her own cause, else how could she hope to make him believe in it? Suddenly it was all so very clear to her. Now that her confidence was at an all-time high, she had to take the bull by the horns before she lost her nerve.

Once she finished her shift, she went home, bathed and changed into a fresh set of clothes. Then she began gathering all documents and scrolls she and Legolas had collected during their research in the city archives. It wasn’t permitted to take originals, so they had painstakingly copied out all relevant information by hand. She leafed through the files to familiarize herself again with their contents, remembering her father’s maxim that preparation was everything. Once she felt that she had done everything she could, she took the entire dossier under her arm and set out for the healers’ quarters, where Turnion had his office. She was nervous as before, but she knew that this time, she couldn’t allow herself to show it.

 _If you want people to respect you, you have to give them a reason to._ Galadriel’s words still rang clearly in her mind, strengthening her resolve. No, today she would not be dismissed so easily. With that thought in mind, she knocked on the door and entered Turnion’s office with her head held high.

Turnion was seated at his desk when she came in, and she saw him blink confusedly a couple of times before rising to his feet. “Lady Filanna, to what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?”

Filanna suppressed a smile as she crossed the room. She had taken the time to groom herself before leaving, and she was wearing her finest dress, so she looked as good as she felt. It was no wonder that he’d needed a moment to recognize her, and she felt that it gave her a small advantage even before the first word had been spoken.

“My reasons are the same as before,” she said in as firm a voice as she could manage. “I feel that I failed to convey a few relevant details the last time we spoke, and I have come to rectify that. May I sit?”

“Certainly, but...” Looking somewhat flummoxed, Turnion watched her take the opposite chair before slowly lowering himself into his own. “Forgive me for being blunt, but I would be very much surprised if you could add something I haven’t heard many times before, unless you have a feasible solution for the problem I described earlier.”

“I do not,” she said truthfully, “as it was never my intention to offer you one. The practical side of things is something you should discuss with Haldir and with others who have a better understanding of the issues involved. My only objective is to open your mind to those negotiations.”

She looked him in the eye, expecting objections, but although he didn’t look particularly thrilled, he spread his hands as a sign for her to proceed. Perhaps he was only indulging her, but she didn’t let that deter her. One foot in the door was all she needed.

She put the dossier on the desk between them and began spreading out some of the more relevant documents. “These are the results of a small research conducted by my brother and myself. Allow me to explain our principal conclusions.”

Turnion intertwined his fingers, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Research? With what objective?”

“To find out how many lives were lost in battle,” she said, “and more specifically, the lives that could have been saved if medical treatment had been given at the site. Unfortunately, time constraints did not permit us to include all available reports, but if more data are necessary I would be more than happy to-”

“Lady Filanna,” Turnion interrupted, “you are to be commended for the time and effort you have clearly put into this, but I think I see where this is going. Truly, I am aware of the fact that sometimes lives are lost unnecessarily, which is tragic, but I will not be made responsible for any of those deaths.”

“That is not my intent at all,” she said calmly, although on the inside she was rejoicing. He was getting defensive, which meant that his position was not as strong as he wanted it to be. “If I wanted to appeal to your guilt, I could have paraded a throng of mourning widows and mothers before you, yet I have come alone, with only these files to support my case. Hard numbers and cold facts-- you seemed like the type who would appreciate that.” She smiled sweetly. “May I continue?”

He nodded curtly, with obvious reluctance, but she became bolder with every passing second. She did not even have to search for the right words-- they came to her on their own accord.

“Over the past hundred years, nine wardens died as a result of battle wounds,” she said. “I have read the descriptions of those occurrences very carefully and I believe that at least two of those lives might have been spared if adequate first aid had been given in time, but in both cases no one present had the experience or the means to effectively treat an arterial bleeding. Do you realize what this means? Over a span of a thousand years, an average of twenty lives could be saved with something as simple as a tourniquet. At this point in time, only a handful of wardens know the basic skills of first aid, and their rosters are completely uncoordinated. In my view, there should be at least one elf with healing skills in every patrol or unit, but ideally, no warden should be sent to the fences without any form of medical training. If all wardens carry their own medical kit and are able to perform simple procedures, it might eventually even take some of the workload off your healers’ shoulders. The time and effort you sow today will start bearing fruit very quickly.”

Filanna had a tendency to talk fast when she was excited, and she had to stop and take a breath several times. She spoke for a long time, especially for her standards, and she caught herself repeating certain phrases in the heat of the moment, but all in all she thought that Legolas would have been proud of her. Turnion did not try to interrupt her again; he merely listened, outwardly unmoved by the torrent of her words. When she finally ran out of things to add to her plight, he remained silent for a moment or two.

“One thing yet remains a mystery,” he said eventually. “Why do a lord and lady of Mirkwood take it upon themselves to plead for a cause that affects the Galadhrim only? Is the Marchwarden tired of fighting his own battles?”

Filanna had anticipated this question. “Haldir knows nothing of it,” she said firmly, so there would be no misunderstanding. “The matter was brought to my attention by someone else, and I decided to get involved for personal reasons, which I think are irrelevant.”

Turnion’s expression betrayed a hint of surprise, and he shifted slightly in his chair. “Haldir didn’t send you?”

“Of course he didn’t. He is too proud and honourable for that,” she said adamantly. “I swear to you, this was my own idea.”

Turnion smiled, for the first time. “I stand corrected. All this time, I thought Haldir had resorted to desperate measures, sending a charming female with royal connections to defrost my icy resolve. I actually sympathized with you for being put in that position.”

“You have a lot to learn about him,” she said softly. “And about me, as well.”

“So it seems.” Turnion sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have a feeling you will not take no for an answer this time, am I right?”

“That is correct,” she said, wondering if he could hear the mad pounding of her heart.

He was silent for a minute or two, leafing through the documents she had brought and pausing occasionally to read a paragraph. In the end he said, “I still have my doubts and reservations, Filanna, but if you leave these files here so that I may study them at a more convenient moment, I will give the matter fair consideration. I cannot promise you more than that.”

She gave no response, and he smiled when he saw her expression. “Do you not trust me? On my honour, lady, I give you my word that I will look into it as soon as I am able. I am not in the habit of making empty promises. But I advise you not to mention any of this to the Marchwarden; if I see room for negotiation, I will speak to him myself.”

“I’ll not say a word.” Filanna, who realized that this was the best she could hope for at this time, hesitated briefly. “I only wish to reiterate that you are wrong about Haldir. I have also misjudged him in the past, but he truly is good and honourable. If you give him a chance, he will surprise you.” She rose to her feet, feeling a bit weak in the knees now that the tension was leaving her body. “I thank you for your time.”

He got up also, giving a small, courteous bow. “I thank you for visiting, Lady Filanna. It was most... enlightening.”

***

After Filanna left his talan in a hurry, Haldir had spent the morning going through the motions. He had bathed, changed the sheets on his bed and gone to the market for fresh bread. Then he had overseen a sword practice session, the last of the tournament. With only a few days left, the treasure hunt was scheduled to begin that evening, at twilight. He was glad for it; it meant that until the closing ceremony, he would be free to dedicate his time to Filanna. There were still so many places he wanted to show her, but he was to leave for the fences in less than a week. By the time he returned, summer would be as good as over, and – the very thought pained him – there were no guarantees that she would still be here next summer.

When the contestants laid down their arms and went away to have their midday meal, Haldir was joined by Rúmil in doing likewise. Orophin – with whom relations had still not entirely been mended after their argument – was nowhere to be found.

Rúmil, of course, wasted no time in bringing up the previous night’s events. “I hope my badly timed presence last night didn’t spoil the mood?” He took a large bite out of a sandwich and grinned with his mouth full. “Poor Filanna looked positively mortified, but I trust you succeeded in assuaging her embarrassment soon enough.”

Haldir muttered a non-committal reply, but he realized that for the first time in many years, he actually did want to speak of these things to someone he trusted. He wasn’t sure how to convey that to his brother, but thankfully, Rúmil was never one to leave well enough alone.

“I assume you will insist on utter discretion, as usual?” Rúmil nudged him from across the table. “Come on, Haldir, I’ve hit a dry spell recently, so my only excitement is of the vicarious kind. Throw me a bone.”

Haldir shrugged, forcing himself to speak even though every fibre in his body resisted the notion. “It was... oh, I don’t know. Beautiful, I suppose is the word I’m looking for. I don’t want to sound trite, but I experienced something with her that I’ve never experienced with anyone else. From the very beginning she has made me feel things I didn’t know I was capable of feeling, and last night was no exception.”

Rúmil nodded pensively, slowly munching on his sandwich. “And...?”

Haldir lowered his head slightly, making a study of his untouched lunch. From the corner of his eyes, he verified that there were no others within hearing distance. “And I wanted to tell her I love her the entire time.”

Rúmil’s jaw stopped moving. “And did you?”

“No.” Haldir hesitated. “I feared it might scare her.”

“Indeed, because it is such an offensive thing for a lady to hear.” Rúmil rolled his eyes. “Don’t fool yourself, brother-- it was your own fear that held you back. For the first time in Eru knows how long, you have actual feelings for someone, and you are scared out of your wits because of it.”

Haldir exhaled slowly, still not raising his eyes. He was unused to discussing his innermost feelings with his siblings, or with anyone for that matter, but where romance was concerned, Rúmil’s experience far outweighed his own. “Any advice?” he softly asked.

At this, Rúmil smiled. “I can only advise you to enjoy it. I know this is unfamiliar territory for you, but truly, love is a wonderful thing, especially when it is reciprocated.” A pause. “Do you know if she feels as strongly about you as you do about her?”

Haldir nodded. “She hasn’t said it in so many words, but... yes, I think she does.”

“My congratulations. I am very happy for you.” Rúmil grinned widely and brought his sandwich to his mouth, but paused at the last moment. “But in Elbereth’s name, Haldir, don’t wait too long to tell her. It is the sort of thing a female expects to hear once the deed has been done, and believe me, failing to meet that expectation would be a big mistake.”


	27. The Perfect Revenge

All in all, the tournament had been a great success.

The final test, the treasure hunt, was brought to an exciting conclusion on the fourteenth day with the two fastest teams racing each other to the finish. Then, once the last team had finished and all the results were in, Haldir and his peers retired to a private location for a final and heated debate while the contestants nervously awaited their judgment. They had given their very best-- now it was for the Marchwardens to decide who was worthy of the uniform.

It seemed that all of Caras Galadhon had emptied for the occasion, for the festival grounds were possibly even more crowded than on the first day of the tournament, and the atmosphere was one of merry anticipation. Everyone wanted to witness the culmination of the past weeks’ events and to applaud the new wardens as well as the contestants that would have to try again in five years. They had provided hours of entertainment and everyone wanted them to succeed in their ambition.

The Marchwardens’ deliberation could be a lengthy and frustrating affair in itself, but this year the quartet came to an agreement relatively quickly. Each of the aspiring wardens had potential, but there were many criteria to consider, and only seven contestants had performed well enough to convince all four Marchwardens. Two were given the benefit of the doubt; they would have to continue proving their worth during the two-year trial period and the gruelling training program that was part of it. It could be many years before any of them was considered experienced enough for a dispatch to the outer fences.

The excitement in the air was almost tangible as Haldir and his peers made their way through the crowd, to the main arena where the Lord and Lady were already waiting. Orophin was also present, standing proudly with the sword at his side, although he seemed to purposely avoid Haldir’s eyes. They had barely spoken since their argument, although not for lack of trying on Haldir’s part. It frustrated him that his stubborn brother persisted in carrying a grudge for so long.

Traditionally, the contestants were called forward one by one to have their performance evaluated and to hear their fate. For those that hadn’t made the cut, each of the Marchwardens had some praise as well as some constructive criticisms, and the chosen ones were also informed of their individual strengths and weaknesses. All were applauded generously by the spectators, and when each had had their turn, Celeborn raised his arms to ask for silence, the folds of his robe flapping audibly in the wind.

“I hereby invite our new wardens to come forward and say their pledge,” he announced. “Orophin, the Sword.”

The ceremony of the sword was one Haldir had observed many times, and although he tried to appear attentive as Orophin came forward, his eyes began to wander. He had not yet spotted Filanna’s face in the crowd, but she had to be there somewhere. Already he longed for her once more, despite the many hours they had spent making love that night. It was an odd thing, but being with her these past few days had made him realize just how much he enjoyed her company. With Bereth and his previous other lovers, even staying the night had sometimes felt like too much of a commitment. He cared for them but some part of him had always been left wanting. Now, for the first time in as long as he could remember, that feeling of restlessness was gone, and the only thing that kept him from fully enjoying that fact was the knowledge that the day of his departure was approaching fast.

He adjusted his stance slightly and tugged at his collar. Valar, but he would be glad to go home, take off the Marchwarden’s regalia and put them out of his sight for the next five years. He was hot and uncomfortable in the multi-layered uniform, and he hankered for a bath almost as much as he did for his elleth. The tournament was traditionally concluded by a celebration, with music and dancing-- but perhaps he could persuade Filanna to accompany him to his favourite pool instead. It was certainly worth a try.

While Haldir privately entertained himself with thoughts like these, Orophin knelt before Celeborn, holding the sword aloft. “My lord, I present you the Sword of Amdir. I have kept and guarded it to the best of my ability, honour-bound by my pledge.”

Celeborn gave an approving nod. “I thank you, Orophin, and I hereby relieve you of your duty, which you have so faithfully executed.”

At that moment Haldir perceived, despite his distraction, a slight change in Celeborn’s demeanour that struck him as odd immediately. The Lord of the Galadhrim seemed to hesitate before taking the sword from Orophin’s hands, his eyes narrowing slightly, and there was a long silence as everyone waited for him to call the first contestant forward-- but it didn’t happen. Haldir’s eyes narrowed also as he observed Celeborn who, for a few moments at least, appeared uncharacteristically indecisive.

Finally Celeborn straightened himself, smiling in a way that seemed as forced as his casual tone. “Orophin, I need a private word with you.”

“Now, my lord?” Orophin rose to his feet, looking confused. “Is something wrong?”

Celeborn gave no reply, beckoning to Haldir and the other three Marchwardens. As they made to follow him, it occurred to Haldir that having a word in private would be nigh impossible-- the arena was entirely surrounded, and hundreds of pairs of eyes were worriedly following Celeborn’s every move. The crowd was deathly quiet, and Arphain signalled the musicians, who hesitantly began to play. Although it was a poor distraction at best, it took away some of the tension of the moment.

“Have we made a mistake in choosing you for this task, Orophin?” Celeborn asked in a low tone. “Is this your idea of a joke?”

Orophin blanched slightly under Celeborn’s stern gaze. “My lord, I... I don’t understand. A joke? I assure you, I have taken my responsibility very seriously.”

Galadriel placed a placating hand on her husband’s arm. “My love, what is this about?”

“This is not Amdir’s sword.” Celeborn paused, realizing that he may have spoken a little too loudly. “It looks nearly identical, but it is a forgery. Explain that to me, Orophin.”

Celeborn’s words were met by shocked silence. Orophin, now pale as a sheet, looked aghast. “My lord... that can’t be. I haven’t left it out of my sight since the moment it was entrusted to me. I swear it!”

“Do not lie,” Celeborn said sharply. “This is not the sword I gave you. Where is it? Speak!”

“Celeborn,” Galadriel warned. A look passed between the two spouses, and Celeborn seemed to regain some of his calm. Orophin turned desperate eyes to Haldir, quietly begging him for support.

“My lord, if I may,” Haldir said respectfully. “I do not believe Orophin to be insincere. I admit I haven’t always had faith in his level of commitment, but if this is a prank of some sort, it is not of his design. It is likely that he was tricked.”

“I agree,” Arphain said. “I have never known Orophin to be dishonest. If he says he knows nothing of this forgery, I believe him.” The other two nodded in agreement.

Orophin looked marginally relieved, but the show of support did little to assuage his turmoil. “I don’t understand,” he murmured brokenly. “How could this happen?”

“Someone must have switched the real sword for a copy,” Haldir said. “You must have left it out of your sight, even if only for a moment. Think!”

Orophin shook his head, his gazing turning inward as he frantically retraced his steps in his mind. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I’ve carried it with me everywhere. I’ve only laid it aside before going to bed.”

“Do you think someone broke into your talan while you were sleeping?” Meredion asked.

“No. Impossible.” Orophin’s tone was firm. “I sleep very lightly, always have. The smallest sound would have awakened me. Tell them, Haldir.”

Haldir nodded slightly. “Yes, it is true. But if you had been drinking, it might be possible that-”

“Don’t try to make this about my drinking habits!” Orophin’s temper flared. “I admit I haven’t abstained, these past two weeks, but I have made sure not to push my limits. If someone had been inside my talan uninvited, I would know it.”

“Did anything strange happen?” Arphain asked. “Were you approached by someone who acted in a suspicious manner?”

Orophin shook his head. “Not that I recall. I have spoken to so many people. I don’t see how any of them could have taken the sword without my-” He stopped mid-sentence, something dawning in his eyes. “Oh, no.”

“What?” Celeborn said sharply. “What have you just remembered?”

“There was... an elleth.” Orophin looked simultaneously shocked and embarrassed. “I met her one night-- she was looking for an earring she had lost. We went to the pond together. I left the sword close to the shore along with my clothes, but I suppose... I didn’t keep a very close eye on it.”

The hair at the back of Haldir’s neck stood up. “Who was this elleth? What is her name?”

Orophin flushed, his eyes shying away from his brother’s. “I... I don’t remember. I’m not sure she told me.”

Haldir barely suppressed a groan. “You don’t even ask for their names nowadays?”

“Don’t be self-righteous with me, Haldir,” Orophin snapped, erupting in anger. “You haven’t always been such a paragon of virtue yourself.”

Arphain intervened before the brotherly brawl could escalate further. “Peace, peace,” he said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “Let us keep this constructive. Assuming that this was indeed foul play-- Orophin, do you think that someone might have had the opportunity to take the sword and replace it with a copy while you were at the pool?”

Orophin lowered his eyes, his jaw set in a hard angle. Reluctantly he said, “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Who would do such a thing?” Galadriel asked softly. “If this is a prank, what is its purpose?”

“It isn’t a prank,” Haldir said slowly. “It is revenge. I for one find it hard to believe that whoever did this just happened to have an exact copy of Amdir’s sword at their disposal. Someone made that sword for this particular purpose-- someone who has both the skills and the motive.”

Orophin groaned, reaching the same conclusion almost simultaneously. “I’ll kill that good-for-nothing piece of scum,” he whispered, balling his fists. “I swear I’ll kill him with my own bare hands.”

“My lord,” Haldir said, turning to Celeborn, “with your permission, Arphain and I will now leave and discreetly start a search. I think you will agree that the ceremony must proceed as planned.”

Celeborn looked as though he had the taste of something rotten in his mouth. “Are you saying the new wardens should pledge their allegiance to a counterfeit sword?”

“I share your misgivings,” Haldir said tactfully, “but the most prudent course of action, for now, is to keep this as contained as possible. The last thing we need is for a thousand people to start searching at once, and it is imperative that we find the one responsible before others do. He will need protection.”

“Protection!” Orophin spat. “He committed a sacrilege and you speak of offering him protection? Let him feel the consequences of his actions, I say. It is nothing less than he deserves.”

“That sort of talk is exactly why you will stay here,” Haldir said sternly. “You will put on a happy face and not breathe a word of this to anyone.” Orophin opened his mouth, but Haldir was in no mood to hear his protests. “Orophin. Consider that an order.”

As Celeborn and Galadriel made their way back, followed by the two other Marchwardens and a disgruntled Orophin, Haldir and Arphain made as discreet an exit as possible. The ranks of spectators parted to let them through, anxious eyes watching them go by, and as he heard the confused murmurs circulating behind him, Haldir knew that Orophin’s humiliation wouldn’t stay a secret very long. Glamion had indeed planned his revenge to perfection.

“So,” Arphain said once they were safely out of earshot, “it seems your concerns were just, my friend. It is the farrier we should be on the lookout for, isn’t it?”

Haldir, who saw his hope of a quiet evening with Filanna going up in smoke, nodded grimly. “This toxic rivalry needs to end,” he murmured, shaking his head. “It is hurting the both of them. The Lord and Lady need to put a stop to it, before those two completely destroy one another.”

“Do you think he’ll be difficult to find?”

“If you want to find a badger, you look for its burrow first.” Haldir quickened his step. “To the smithy.”

***

Drauglan had lost interest in the tournament after the first week. Although the fair held many attractions for him and his friends, the clashing swords and flying arrows could only keep him entertained for so long; and so, instead of watching the closing ceremony, he had gone in search of other diversions. A few days earlier, he had accidentally discovered the smithy during a game of hide and seek, and for some reason it had captured his interest. Peeking inside through the window, he had seen the blacksmith hard at work in the semi-dark, and he had become mesmerized by the glowing metal and the sparks that flew when hammer and anvil connected. Today he was returning with the intention to knock on the door and ask if he could observe from a little closer by.

Disappointingly, he found the smithy empty and locked-- a peek through the window confirmed that there was no activity inside. Then it occurred to him that the blacksmith had probably gone to see the new wardens being sworn in, just like everybody else. He was about to leave when he heard voices, not too far away. Hoping to find the blacksmith after all, he set out in the direction from whence they came.

There were three different voices, all male, and as he drew closer Drauglan realized that the elves to whom they belonged were having an argument.

“I don’t know why you still have that damned thing out here for people to find, Glamion,” one of the voices said. “Come sundown, the whole city will be in an uproar; the sooner we get rid of it, the better.”

“I agree, it is making me nervous,” agreed a second. “For Eru’s sake, let’s just bury it in a safe place, or better yet, toss it in the river.”

The third, whose name apparently was Glamion, laughed scornfully. “Toss the sword of Amdir in the river? You wouldn’t lose a moment’s sleep over that?”

“I would rather sacrifice a few hours of sleep than my reputation.”

Drauglan, who had now caught sight of the group of three, advanced as quietly as he could. He didn’t understand exactly what was going on, but he instinctively felt that he had stumbled onto something worth investigating.

“The sword is valuable,” continued Glamion, whom Drauglan now recognized as the blacksmith. He was holding the object of their dispute in his hands. “No harm will come to it.”

“I don’t understand,” one of his companions said. “Do you intend to use it as leverage, then?”

“I like that idea much better, Carafin.” Glamion chuckled. “But what is the point? I have already accomplished my objective. Orophin has suffered a disgrace, a lesson in humility he won’t soon forget, and that is all I wanted to achieve. I just wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’ve outsmarted him.”

“Yes, you have your triumph,” Carafin said impatiently. “Eglandir and I are thrilled for you, but pray remind us, what exactly do we have to gain from all this?”

“You will be rewarded as promised,” Glamion said testily, “as will your sister, Carafin. She gave a very credible performance, and of course that idiot fell for it instantly. The earring especially was a stroke of brilliance.”

“Hush,” Eglandir said suddenly, “I hear something.”

Drauglan, who had ventured a little too close, quickly ducked behind a tree, but it was too late. Eglandir was upon him within moments, grabbing him by the collar to prevent escape. “What’s this? A little spy, putting his nose in grown-up business?”

“Let me go!” Drauglan tried to pull himself free, but Eglandir had a hand like an iron vice. “You are thieves! You stole the sword!”

“Oh, isn’t he clever?” Eglandir chuckled. “The sword belongs to all Galadhrim, so technically, we only took what is rightly ours.” He ungently dragged the resisting elfling toward the other two ellyn, but abruptly let go when Drauglan aimed a hard kick at his shin. “Ow! You little piece of orc filth!”

As Drauglan bolted, Carafin made to go after him, but Glamion stopped him. “Are you both mad? He is just a child, let him go.”

Eglandir, who was rubbing his sore leg, looked up disgruntled. “You do realize he’ll go straight to Celeborn, don’t you? Everything will come out.”

Glamion shrugged. “I care not. I have what I wanted-- and it would have come out in any case.”

***

With almost every citizen gone to attend the closing ceremony, the usually lively city of Caras Galadhon was practically deserted. Among the very few left was Legolas, who had gone for a leisurely stroll and completely forgotten the time, something he was prone to do once he got to daydreaming. Also, he found that the Golden Wood had a way of bewitching the senses, putting one in a state of complete forgetfulness, and he wasn’t all that sorry to miss the event. As his days in Lothlórien were slowly coming to an end, this was a rare opportunity to take in the smells and sounds of the forest without the distractions of everyday activity.

He also needed the time to reflect on his relationship – or the lack thereof – with Inis. Despite the time they had spent together recently and despite his repeated efforts at winning her heart, he didn’t feel that he was making much progress at all. She was hard to grasp, like a spectre he was chasing in the night, alluring but never close enough to actually touch. He was unfamiliar with this sort of courtship, not in the least because in this case, his main rival was a deceased ellon whose lingering presence was always near. The last thing Legolas wanted was to force Inis into a situation she wasn’t ready to face, so he had been very respectful of the wall she had built around herself. To his regret, it was beginning to look as though those defences would remain firmly in place-- and that thought truly saddened him.

Immersed in thought as he was, he had unknowingly strayed quite far from the central mallorn when he heard, unexpectedly, the sound of running feet. To his surprise, it was none other than Drauglan who came bursting through the underbrush moments later. Rather than stopping, the elfling ran all the way up to him, grabbed his hand and began pulling it excitedly.

“Legolas, quick, you need to come! They are going to throw the sword in the river, you have to stop them!”

“Calm, child.” Legolas was bewildered by Drauglan’s agitation and the strange jumble of words that came out of his mouth. “Who are you talking about?”

“The blacksmith, and two others,” Drauglan replied, somewhat impatiently. “I heard them talking, over by the smithy. They stole the sword of Amdir. You need to tell them to give it back!”

For a few moments, Legolas gazed down at the fierce little face that bore definite traces of a resemblance to his mother’s. The elfling appeared to be deadly serious, but even if his strange story was a part of innocent child’s play, Legolas decided there was no harm in humoring him. “Very well, let’s go.”

“Hurry, hurry.” Drauglan pulled hard at Legolas’s hand as they went. “We need to get there before they hide the sword.”

Legolas shook his head, torn between amusement and genuine concern. “I thought Orophin had the sword in his care.”

“He did, but they took it. They said some things about him that weren’t very nice. I don’t think they like him very much.”

Legolas pondered this for a moment, quickening his step unconsciously. “You heard all this? Were you eavesdropping?”

“No.” Drauglan’s face grew red. “Well, maybe a little. But I didn’t really mean to. I just wanted to come inside the smithy and see the fire. They caught me, but I escaped. I’m sure they would have killed me.”

Legolas smiled at that. Drauglan’s story was becoming more fantastical and disturbing by the minute, but here at least he could separate fact from fiction. “I highly doubt that, Drauglan. Elves don’t slay their own kin.”

Once they reached the smithy, it didn’t take long for Legolas to hear voices. Drauglan led him purposely in their direction, and as they drew closer it soon became clear to Legolas that this wasn’t a game at all. Just as Drauglan had said, there were three ellyn, two nervous-looking and one holding a sword that bore a striking resemblance to the one Orophin had had at his side for the past two weeks. It made no sense whatsoever; if the sword had truly been stolen from under Orophin’s watchful eye, then why wasn’t all of Lórien up in arms about it? The Galadhrim cherished their traditions, so an offense like that would not be taken lightly.

“Are you sure that is the one and only sword of Amdir?” Legolas asked Drauglan softly. “Absolutely sure?”

Drauglan nodded earnestly, briefly touching his heart for emphasis.

Legolas weighed his options quickly. His years of soldiering had taught him to never walk into a sticky situation by himself, but if Drauglan was right, the sword might be lost long before reinforcements arrived. He also hadn’t entirely dismissed the possibility that Drauglan had somehow misunderstood and drawn the wrong conclusions. “You should stay out of sight while I handle this,” he told Drauglan. “It might be best if you went back to the city and alerted others, the sentinels perhaps-”

Drauglan shook his head vehemently at that and tightened his hold on Legolas’s hand, sending him an obstinate look that made it clear he wouldn’t be sent away. Legolas conceded, realizing that this was neither the time nor the place to start a debate with a stubborn elfling, and together they advanced further toward the bickering trio.

Legolas could see that their appearance caused a stir. Clearly, with the city practically empty, they had not expected Drauglan to return with reinforcement so soon.

“Well, well, it’s the little brat from before,” Eglandir scoffed, “and he’s brought a friend this time.”

“What is going on here?” Legolas demanded. “Is what my young friend is saying true? Is that the true sword of Amdir?”

“Aye, and what will you do about it?” Carafin challenged. “You are unarmed and you have the musculature of a spider, prince-elf.”

Legolas sighed. “I would prefer to resolve this nonviolently, but if you persist in this idiocy, I suppose I’ll do what I have to. I give you fair warning, though-- I may not have much flesh on my bones, but I know a wrestling move or two.”

“I don’t need this grief,” Eglandir said, holding up his hands in frustration. “It was a good prank, Glamion, but I didn’t get on board with this just to have my name dragged through the mud. I don’t know what you are playing at, but I want no part in it.”

Glamion, who hadn’t so much as flinched, came calmly forward. “You can let these cowards go,” he told Legolas with an air of disinterest. “They acted at my bidding. Here.” He offered the sword to Legolas, who took it after a moment’s hesitation.

“I don’t understand,” Legolas said, caught off-guard by this unexpected twist. “If you were going to give it back all along, then why did you steal it in the first place?”

Glamion snorted. “I don’t think I need explain myself to you, Thranduilion.” Then he suddenly grinned. “I realize it won’t make for a very heroic story for you, though. If you would rather tell everyone you had to overpower me with your bare hands, I wouldn’t have a problem with that. No one would ever hear the truth from me.”

Legolas raised both eyebrows. Even though he had never spoken to this ellon before, he suddenly remembered having heard of him, and not in a favourable context. “I know who you are. My sister gave you a black eye a few weeks ago.”

“Indeed, and today I have the pleasure of making your acquaintance also. It almost seems as though our destinies are intertwined.” Glamion smirked. “Well then, now that you have apprehended me, what will you do with me?”

Legolas sighed. From enjoying a quiet walk on his own he had somehow landed in the middle of a serious mess. “I suppose I’ll escort you to the Great Hall and leave you in the hands of the sentinels. The Lord and Lady will surely have a few questions to ask you when they return.”

“What an excellent idea.” Glamion gave a mocking bow. “Well then, let’s not tarry, Your Highness. I am your willing captive.”

They made for a strange procession: Drauglan at the front, frolicking happily now that the sword was safe and the offender in custody, Glamion in the middle and Legolas brought up the rear with the Galadhrim’s most precious artefact. Carafin and Eglandir had made a hasty exit, but Legolas didn’t doubt that sooner or later, they too would be summoned for questioning. Even if they had only carried out Glamion’s instructions, their part in this theft would not remain without consequences.

They had almost reached the heart of the city when Drauglan suddenly broke into a run, waving his arms about in an excited manner. He had spotted Haldir and Arphain, who came from the opposite direction and looked with no small amount of surprise at the peculiar trio.

“Haldir, Haldir!” Drauglan cried. “Look what we did! Bad ellyn stole the sword of Amdir, and Legolas and I saved it.”

“That is excellent, Drauglan,” said Haldir, who only partially succeeded in hiding his astonishment. He stroked the elfling’s head affectionately. “I have always said you’ll make an outstanding warden, or sentinel, if you persist in pursuing that path. Now I have another very important mission for you. Run to the festival terrain as fast as you can and tell Celeborn and Galadriel the good news, but do it very discreetly. It must remain a secret to everyone else, even your mother. Do you think you can do that?”

Drauglan nodded earnestly, clearly proud to be entrusted with such an important task, and he ran off without so much as saying goodbye.

“You are not going to be able to keep this contained, Haldir,” Glamion said. “The truth will come out. People talk, and there is nothing you can do about it. By this time tomorrow, all Caras Galadhon will know your brother for the irresponsible idiot that he is.”

“You have nothing to gain from this, Glamion,” Haldir said softly. “You are only succeeding in making yourself ridiculous. Even if Orophin has offended you in the past, you should have risen above. This childishness only proves that you are no more mature today than he was then.”

“Would you rise above?” Glamion said coolly. “If some young upstart showed you disrespect and lured away your precious princess, would you take that lying down? I think we both know the answer to that. Childish though you think my actions may be, I have proven my point. Orophin is flighty and self-centered, and there is a part of you that knows it. Today I exposed the truth. I may not have made myself popular by doing so, but that was never my intent.”

Haldir did an admirable job of keeping a calm demeanour, but Legolas could tell that he was deeply disgusted. “Arphain, will you please escort Glamion to the Great Hall? Legolas and I will follow very shortly.”

Arphain nodded grimly. He wasn’t an elf of many words, but his expression, too, spoke volumes. Glamion went with him without further comments, and Haldir’s authoritative mask fell away as he tiredly massaged his forehead with one hand. “How you and Drauglan became involved in this is beyond me, Legolas, but I have never been happier to see that damn sword in my entire life. Eru, what a nightmare. Something tells me this is going to be a long day.”

“If there is anything I can do...?” Legolas offered.

Haldir smiled vaguely. “You recovered the sword. What more could I ask for?”

“It was hardly an act of heroism,” Legolas said. “I think Glamion would have come to the Great Hall and willingly delivered the thing himself before the end of the day.”

“That wouldn’t have surprised me in the least.” Haldir sighed. “But come, you can tell me the details on the way.”

“Of course, but...” Legolas lifted the sword. “Would it not be more appropriate if you carried this into the Great Hall?”

Haldir took pause, gazing for a moment at the weathered blade in Legolas’s hands. “Amroth should never have brought it back to Lórien after the war,” he finally said. “It was once a great sword, but it died in Mordor along with its master. By all rights it should be resting in Amdir’s grave at Dagorlad, as per our people’s traditions. No, Legolas, I’ll not touch the thing with a bargepole.”


	28. Fire And Water

After receiving the tidings of Glamion’s villainy, Celeborn and Galadriel returned to Caras Galadhon as swiftly as they were able, anxious to hear the full story. In the seclusion of Celeborn’s private chambers, they questioned both Glamion and Orophin extensively and were surprised to learn of their profound hatred for one another. The four Marchwardens were also present, but they did not partake in the discussion except to answer the occasional question.

“What I do not understand,” Celeborn said at some point, “is why this rivalry was allowed to exist for so long. If you were aware of the situation all this time, Haldir, why did you not put a stop to it?”

Haldir didn’t flinch at the thinly veiled reprimand. “With all due respect, my lord, I have intervened many times, kept them apart like dogs determined to fight. But they are both responsible adults, at least they should be, so I always hoped they would one day acknowledge their folly and make peace. If I have been remiss in not bringing the matter to your attention, I apologize. I admit I had not expected the conflict to escalate the way it has.”

Galadriel, softer-spoken than her husband but no less stern, turned to the farrier. “Glamion, I have always known you to be hard-working and talented. Your reputation reaches even beyond our borders. Can you explain why you chose to put that at risk for the sake of personal revenge?”

Glamion did not respond immediately. He had so far answered all questions eloquently and respectfully, overall making a much better impression than Orophin, who was in an atrocious mood and made no effort to hide that fact. Glamion’s newfound complaisance wasn’t even an act-- his triumph over Orophin seemed to have taken a burden off his shoulders, allowing him to finally tap into a more pleasant side of his personality. “I do not think that I can explain myself more clearly than I already have, my lady,” he said. “Orophin has offended me, not once but many times. He has ridiculed me and publicly insulted me and my craft. I have borne it for a while, but no more. I will bear the consequences of my actions and accept my punishment, but I will not apologize, for I do not repent my actions and I never will.”

Celeborn and Galadriel shared a look, clearly disconcerted by Glamion’s lack of remorse.

“You were seen with two accomplices,” Celeborn said. “Were there others who helped you? Was the elleth involved?”

“The elleth whose name Orophin can’t remember?” Glamion sent Orophin a sideways smirk, his old personality surfacing briefly. “None of that is relevant, Lord Celeborn. I take full responsibility for everything.”

“Your friends spoke of throwing the sword of Amdir in the river,” Celeborn said coolly. “Whether it is relevant is not for you to decide.”

“Indeed, that was an unfortunate misunderstanding,” Glamion said as he lowered his eyes briefly. “Of course it was never my intention to let the sword come to harm, for I do respect its history. And it is a beautiful sword. Copying it was a challenge, especially since I had to work from memory.”

“It was a good copy,” Celeborn said, “but not good enough. I saw the dissimilarities at once.”

“You were supposed to, my lord,” Glamion said. “It had to be a good enough copy to fool Orophin but not you. For my plan to succeed, you had to recognize the forgery at once.”

“It is a pity that you didn’t put all that effort and talent into something more constructive,” Galadriel said softly. “The forgery will have to be destroyed.”

Glamion nodded. “I understand that, my lady.”

Celeborn sighed, bringing slender fingers to his brow. “You present us with a dilemma. We cannot make an unrepentant soul repent against his will, and an insincere apology solves nothing. But we take this sort of disrespect very seriously, Glamion, and disciplinary actions must be taken. We might have to take away the key to the smithy and keep it until you have proven to us that you can practise your craft responsibly.”

Glamion clenched his jaw as if biting back a protest and lowered his head in resignation, but Haldir could not keep quiet. “My lord, that punishment is too harsh.” His words brought a shocked expression to Orophin’s face which he chose to ignore. “Forgive the interruption, but I must speak my mind. There are many who rely on Glamion’s expertise; it would be a mistake not to take into account how his punishment might affect others. Felegron, for one, will not be happy to lose his best farrier, even if temporarily.”

“I am inclined to agree,” Galadriel said. “This rivalry may have begun over an elleth’s favours, but is this indeed merely the revenge of a scorned lover, or have we only begun scraping the surface of the problem? I have to admit I am surprised and unsettled by the depth of your bitterness, Glamion, and I wonder at its source. Disappointment and conflict, when left unresolved, can poison the kindest of souls.” She was silent for a few moments, observing Glamion sharply. “It is clear that you feel passionate about your work, which is praiseworthy, but surely you have other passions as well? Family, friends, lovers?”

“I have no talent for friendship.” Glamion seemed uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken, but he couldn’t refuse to answer the Lady’s question. “And the few ellith I do find interesting are generally repulsed by the idea of being associated with me.”

“I wonder why,” Orophin remarked acidulously, meeting Haldir’s warning glare with a defiant look of his own.

“Family, then?” Galadriel suggested. “You have siblings, I believe-- two older brothers.”

“My brothers don’t want to know me,” Glamion said matter-of-factly, “nor I them. There is no love lost between us.”

“Why?” the Lady asked. “You must have loved each other once. What caused that to change?”

Glamion was silent for a while, staring at his hands as though he would find the answer written there. “My family had certain expectations which I refused to meet. Unlike my brothers, I never had the ambition to pursue the wardenship-- instead I sought to become to best blacksmith I could be, but apparently that wasn’t good enough. I cut the ties a long time ago. I have no need for a family that reminds me constantly of what a disappointment I am.”

“You feel betrayed,” Galadriel said gently. “That is understandable. It is painful to be treated ill by those who are supposed to love us unconditionally. But I am sure that in your heart you regret the loss of your siblings’ love.”

“I do not,” Glamion said curtly. “I care not whether they live or die, for they are dead to me already.”

An awkward silence fell over the assembly. Even Galadriel, whose serene demeanour was rarely disturbed, looked perplex. The ring Nenya caught the light as she moved her hands on the table and softly said, “You should think twice before saying such things, for one day you may wish them unsaid. I had four brothers once, and I still regret every moment I spent bickering with them over silly things. Death, I assure you, thrusts everything into a different perspective; I hope with all my heart that you won’t have to learn that lesson the hard way, as I have.”

Galadriel and Celeborn exchanged another glance, seemingly coming to a mutual understanding without speaking a word. They had been bonded for a long time and possessed the uncanny ability to communicate through their eyes. Haldir had witnessed it on many occasions.

“This rivalry ends today,” Galadriel resumed, looking sternly from Orophin to Glamion. “You are both strong-minded and outspoken ellyn, and neither of you is entirely innocent here. After today, you will have to find a way to peacefully coexist, for this conflict will damage you both in the end. Celeborn and I will help you find some middle ground, and Glamion, it is imperative that we include your brothers in this process.”

This announcement clearly caught Glamion unawares, for he blanched visibly. “No, my lady, I beg you...”

“I know it won’t be easy,” Galadriel said, “but this must be resolved, Glamion. Your so-called revenge on Orophin will not give you the closure you seek, for his offences against you are not the core problem. It is your brothers’ betrayal that has made you bitter, and you will carry that bitterness with you until those issues are resolved for once and for all. You will be glad for it in the end, I promise you. Celeborn and I would like to call your brothers in right now and help you make the first steps toward reconciliation. I hope you will agree to that.”

Glamion sighed and sat back in his chair, not meeting Galadriel’s gaze. Reluctantly he said, “I have promised to submit to whatever form of punishment you deem appropriate, my lady, and so I will. But if I am to face my brothers, I want only you and Lord Celeborn to be present. I have no need for any uniforms in the room.”

“It will be so,” Celeborn said, nodding at the Marchwardens before turning to Orophin. “You are excused for now, Orophin, but Galadriel and I would like to speak with you privately later on. Arphain, will you find Rawain and Perchel and send them here promptly?”

“Yes, my lord,” Arphain said as he rose to his feet like the others. “I will see to it immediately.”

***

While the small company deliberated inside, away from the public eye, a crowd of curious Galadhrim had gathered near the Great Hall. The strange interruption of the sword ceremony had given birth to a number of different speculations, which were now spreading like wildfire, and many concerned citizens came to the heart of Caras Galadhon in the hope of finding out more. Legolas also loitered in the vicinity, but he shared the true story only with Filanna, who came to find him shortly after the ceremonial activities had been concluded. The unlikely tale and his part in it had her shaking her head in disbelief.

“So you just happened to be in the right place at the right time. How typical of you.” Her amused expression then changed into one of concern. “Poor Orophin, though. He doesn’t deserve this humiliation. I knew that he and Glamion have lived on the edge of war for a long time, but I didn’t expect Glamion to take things this far.”

They were joined by Rúmil not much later, and the three of them worriedly watched the crowd grow over time. Eventually, when the situation threatened to become unmanageable, the sentinels who stood guard by the entrance began asking people to leave. Slowly but surely the crowd thinned out until only a handful were left, among them Filanna and her two male companions, who stood back at a discreet distance as they waited for things to unfold. It took a long time – to Filanna at least it felt like an eternity – but eventually the door opened and the Marchwardens came filing out. Orophin and Haldir were the last ones to appear, and it was instantly apparent that all was not well. Haldir looked very grim, and Orophin’s angry voice carried far and wide.

“No, explain this to me, Haldir,” Orophin could be heard saying. “Explain to me why in the name of all things sacred you were defending that rat instead of your own brother.”

“Lower your voice, Orophin,” Haldir chided. “All the city need not hear you.”

“Don’t use that tone with me, damn you. I am not a child anymore.” Orophin seized Haldir’s arm. “Just this once, treat me as an adult and answer the question.”

“I will treat you as an adult when you start acting like one.” Haldir pulled his arm free, struggling visibly to keep a calm composure. “I am on your side, Orophin, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t be objective and show a little compassion.”

“Compassion!” Orophin looked disgusted. “Don’t tell me you fell for that melodramatic story about his family, Haldir. I have never known you to be gullible.”

“Gullibility has nothing to do with it,” Haldir said. “It was obviously painful for him to speak of these things, and if your judgment wasn’t so clouded by blind hatred, you would have seen that too. I am sorry for what happened today, I truly am, but wallowing in self-pity will not help. Do you think that I haven’t had my share of hard lessons through the years, that my pride hasn’t taken some blows? It isn’t pleasant, but you learn and try to do better next time.”

“Your nonchalance astounds me.” Orophin threw up his hands in frustration. “He has made a fool out of me – out of all of us – and you act as though it means nothing.”

Haldir gave an aggravated sigh, impatience leaking into his words. “Oh, have a little perspective. It was a childish prank, not the end of the world. It will be forgotten by the end of the week.”

Seeing the two brothers like this – facing each other like rivalling stags, their grim faces inches apart – Filanna was reminded once again of the similarities and the dissimilarities between them, something that had intrigued her from the very first day. Under these circumstances, however, she could not enjoy the comparison, for she cared for them both and hated to see them quarrelling. Rúmil, who must have seen her troubled expression, placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Filanna,” he said kindly. “I know it looks ugly, but they are just letting off steam. You have to sit these episodes out; they always pass eventually.”

“I hope so,” Filanna said softly. “Seeing them like this, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what Glamion wanted to achieve-- causing a rift between them. I don’t want to see the three of you end up like Glamion and his brothers.”

“That will never happen,” Rúmil said with conviction. “Haldir and Orophin have always been like this, like fire and water, but underneath all that bickering and verbal sparring they adore each other. They will remember it before the week is out, I can guarantee you that.”

Filanna sighed and gave Rúmil a long, pensive look. The imperturbable middle brother was still something of a mystery to her, but for some reason she felt that she could trust him implicitly, and tell him anything. “We haven’t gotten to know each other well yet, Rúmil, but I do like you.”

He gave her a smile. “Well, consider that feeling mutual, Filanna.”

“Good. So you won’t hold it against me, I hope, if I ask you this: are all ellyn idiots?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“My friend Gwenél,” Filanna said. “Do you really not see that she has carried a torch for you for years, or do you choose not to see it? She may be modest, shy even, but she is also very bright and kind-natured, and pretty to boot. If all that doesn’t interest you for some reason, would you please just tell her that so she can move on? I can’t stand by and watch her suffer anymore.”

Rúmil looked genuinely confused. “I swear to you, I had no idea Gwenél thought of me in that way. Of course I have noticed her many qualities, but she has barely spoken ten words to me all year.”

“She would be horrified if she knew I told you this,” Filanna said, “but someone had to. Please consider taking her to the dance with you, if you don’t already have a partner. It would mean the world to her, and I am sure that you will enjoy her company. But whatever you choose, do not toy with her feelings. If you do, her friends will have to pick up the pieces and we won’t thank you for that.”

Rúmil scratched his head. “I am astounded, Filanna, but I promise I will give your words due thought.”

“Attention, now, here comes the Marchwarden,” Legolas warned, and Filanna turned to see Haldir striding toward them while Orophin stamped off in the opposite direction.

“That looked rough, brother,” Rúmil said to Haldir. “Shall I go after him?”

“No, let him nurse his injured pride for a while. There is no reasoning with him at this moment.” On the surface, Haldir appeared unaffected by the day’s events, but his eyes betrayed weariness. Filanna saw it and longed to embrace him, but she doubted whether he would appreciate a public display of affection.

“The matter wasn’t settled to Orophin’s satisfaction, I take it,” Rúmil said. “Can you tell us more, or are you bound to secrecy?”

Haldir shrugged. “It was as you might expect. Orophin is livid and Glamion doesn’t show an ounce of remorse. Thank Eru the Lady quickly came to the heart of the matter. They are now bringing in Glamion’s brothers to help the three of them sort out their differences.”

“Well... that may be a step in the right direction.” Rúmil hesitated. “What did Orophin say about you defending Glamion? We couldn’t help but overhear that part of your conversation.”

“I think half the city may have overheard.” Haldir gave a wan smile. “I merely pointed out to Lord Celeborn that forbidding Glamion to practise his craft wouldn’t be a constructive form of punishment. It seems to be the only thing in his life he truly enjoys; taking it from him will have the exact opposite effect. I think the Lord and Lady agreed in the end, so naturally Orophin now accuses me of secretly being on Glamion’s side and helping him elude punishment.” He sighed and his gaze crossed Filanna’s. “May I have a word with you in private, Filanna?”

She nodded and followed him as he crossed the flet, wondering what this could be about.

“That was a beautiful thing you did,” she told him once they were out of earshot, “speaking out for Glamion despite everything. I am not sure that he deserves it, but I commend you for rising above.”

“Glamion is no friend of mine, but I had to speak my mind.” Haldir glanced away briefly. “I know Orophin expects me to be unquestioningly supportive of him and everything he does, but I do not always approve of his actions and I cannot pretend to. Every now and then, he just needs to hear the truth. Unfortunately, with Father gone, that task seems to have been passed on to me.”

She nodded understandingly, and this time, she couldn’t help but stroke his arm briefly. “Siblings can’t always be friends to one another,” she said. “Eru knows that I don’t always see eye to eye with mine, but even through the worst squabbles I know they mean well by me. And Orophin knows it, too.” She waited a moment, contemplating his profile. She could have drawn his face from memory if need be, but she never tired of looking at him.

“Do you think they’ll learn to love each other again?” she asked him. “Glamion and his brothers, I mean?”

“I don’t know, Filanna, but there is always hope.” He gave her a sideways glance. “With today’s unforeseen events still unfolding, it looks as though the dance will be postponed until tomorrow evening.”

“I thought it might be.”

“Were you planning to attend?”

“Why, of course.” She gave him a smile. “All my friends are going. And you?”

“That is why I asked to speak with you privately.” He tugged at his collar and cleared his throat. “I would be very honoured to be your escort for the evening, if you’ll have me.”

She smiled at his awkwardly formal manner, but at the same time a rush of sudden joy caused her heart to skip a beat. “Well, it depends,” she said teasingly. “I already have a wide selection of possible partners lined up. Do you plan on dancing?”

A spark of amusement appeared in Haldir’s eyes. “With you, certainly.”

“Good answer.” She gazed up at him happily. “I would love to go to the dance with you, Haldir. Thank you for asking.”

“What of your other suitors?”

“Don’t worry, I will let them down gently.”

“Poor fellows.” He sighed and glanced over his shoulder quickly. “I had wished for us to spend the evening together, but there is little hope of that now, I’m afraid. I have some business to attend to, and the Lord and Lady may have need of me yet. I am sorry.”

“There is no need to be,” she said. “Do what you must. I think I will head home and have a quiet night in, perhaps catch up on my reading.”

He nodded. “I did groceries this morning, so you won’t have to go hungry. Try not to burn down my kitchen, though.”

“Oh.” She blushed. “Are you suggesting I go to _your_ talan, by myself?”

“If you want to.” He gave her a sheepish look, as if only now realizing the implications of what he had said. “I wouldn’t mind. In fact, I would like you to. But if it makes you feel awkward-”

“No,” she said quickly, her face still glowing. “Well, perhaps a little, but it is a tempting idea. I do have one condition, though.”

“Which is...?”

She lowered her voice slightly. “If I am asleep when you come home, you have to wake me up so we can make love.”

He smiled. “All right, I will.”

“Do you promise?”

He leaned down, aligning his mouth with her ear. “I will wake you up and do whatever you want, as often as you want. That, sweet one, is a solemn promise.”

***

After Haldir left, Rúmil and Legolas went their separate ways also while Filanna went in search of Orophin, even though Haldir had advised against it. She did not want to choose sides in this conflict, and she felt she owed it to Orophin to let him know that he had her support. He was her oldest friend in Lothlórien, after all.

She half expected not to find him at home, but he was there, and in the middle of what appeared to be a fanatical cleaning spree.

“Hello, Orophin,” she said, peeking around the door. “Am I intruding, or would you like some company?”

“I always enjoy your company, Filanna,” he replied distractedly as he went through the room, picking up discarded items of clothing from the floor. “I warn you, though, I am a little busy at the moment.”

“I can see that.” She hovered near the door, watching him uncertainly. “What exactly are you doing?”

“I am cleaning.” He leaned over the couch to search behind the cushions, coming up with something that vaguely resembled an old apple core. “Haldir is always nagging me to clean more, and he is right about everything else, so...”

“That isn’t true, Orophin.” Filanna sat down gingerly on the couch, hoping that it didn’t contain any other food scraps. “Haldir makes errors in judgment, too. I can personally attest to that.”

“Well, he was right about the sword at least. He always thought I lacked the responsibility for the job and see what happened.” With a sigh, Orophin sat down also, burying his face in his hands. “Elbereth, I hate that he was right.”

“This wasn’t your fault,” she said adamantly. “You didn’t lose the sword or damage it; you were tricked, wilfully deceived. It could have happened to anyone.”

“But it happened to me.” He lowered his hands, revealing an uncharacteristically bitter expression. “This was my chance to prove myself, and I failed miserably. In the end, all I have managed to prove is that it doesn’t take more than a pair of long-lashed eyes to lead me astray. Haldir must be proud, indeed.”

“He wanted to see you succeed, Orophin,” Filanna said earnestly. “He may be putting on a stern face, because that is what older brothers do, but he _is_ your ally in this.”

“I know.” He gave her a faint, apologetic smile. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Filanna, but I don’t really want to talk about what happened today.”

“I understand,” she said. “I saw you and Haldir arguing earlier and I just thought you might appreciate seeing a friendly face.”

“I do.” He took her hand and squeezed it slightly. “I do, and your company is welcome. However I’m not sure if you’ll get much enjoyment out of mine.”

“It’s a good thing then that I’m not here for my own enjoyment.” Filanna gazed around. “Do you plan to continue this... cleaning endeavour?”

“I do. It is very cathartic, and it keeps me from drinking myself into a stupor. Stay, if you want. Your presence and the quiet sympathy you exude are quite soothing.”

“Well, I’m happy to be useful.” She made to rise. “Shall I make us some tea?”

“No, let me do that. You are my guest, I insist.” He got to his feet, but paused before heading into the kitchen. “Do you know what else I can’t stand about my brother, though?”

“No, what?”

“He always gets the best ellith, that lucky dog.” Smiling now, Orophin leaned down to drop a kiss on the top of her head. “I remember him ogling you that very first evening and you turning up your nose at him. For a while I had such hopes for you, but here you are four months later, firmly entangled in his web.”

She chuckled softly at that. “I am sorry for the disappointment.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m happy if you are.” He hesitated, looking unusually earnest. “It’s been a long time, you know, since Haldir fell for someone the way he has fallen for you. It has taken all of us somewhat by surprise, him most of all, but you would be hard-pressed to find a more loyal companion. You may sometimes wish that he would express his feelings a little more clearly, but he will never take you for granted, of that you can be sure.”

Filanna was touched. “Thank you, Orophin. You are very kind to speak so well of him, given the nature of your last conversation.”

His lips quirked. “True, I am not too happy with my brother at the moment, but my conscience doesn’t permit me to speak ill of him. As you know, I was just a lad when Mother left for Valinor, and Haldir took me in after that, fed me, clothed me and dealt with the woes of my adolescence, poor fellow.” He chuckled. “And once I became interested in the other sex, he taught me everything he thought I should know about females and how they should be treated. Some of his lessons never really sank in, I’m afraid, but he tried, very hard.”

“Oh, my.” Filanna laughed as she tried to imagine the scene in her head. “He must have loved _that_.”

“He was uncomfortable from beginning to end,” Orophin said with a smirk, “but I learned many useful things that still prove their worth today. So, whenever I find myself frustrated with him, as I am now, I try to remember the pains he has taken on my behalf over the years. Because in Haldir’s case, actions really do speak louder than words.” He turned away, looking somewhat self-conscious. “Well, enough with the reminiscing. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll return shortly with tea.”

***

Darkness had fallen by the time Filanna returned to Haldir’s talan later that day, but as expected, Haldir wasn’t there. She felt a little awkward at first, being there without him, but once she had lit the lamps and eaten – scrambled eggs on bread, one of the few things she knew how to make – that feeling had all but disappeared. She cleaned up after herself and changed into her nightgown, making herself comfortable in his bed with a book and a glass of wine.

She was still reading when the sound of the front door opening and closing announced Haldir’s arrival, and she heard him moving about in the living room for a minute before he pushed aside the curtain and appeared in the doorway.

“So you _are_ here,” he said, an odd little smile on his face. “I wasn’t sure if you would be.”

“You invited me, did you not?” She closed her book and put it aside. “How are you? Have you eaten?”

“Yes, Arphain invited me to dine with him and his wife, Beliel. She made me promise to bring you with me next time.”

Filanna smiled. “That is very kind. I would like to make her acquaintance and thank her personally for the sandwiches she sent me. But tell me, is there any news of Glamion?”

“Not that I’ve heard. The meeting could still be ongoing, for all I know.” He came into the room, his fingers working at the fastenings of his cape. “Elbereth, I need this damn uniform out at once.”

“Here, allow me.” She threw aside the sheets and moved to the foot end of the bed, replacing his hands with her own. The knots were pulled tight and took a minute to unravel. Once the cape came off, Haldir placed it over a chair and continued disrobing while she sat back and watched. Watching him disrobe was a pastime she had come to appreciate in recent days.

“Eru, what a relief,” he sighed as he stretched himself and rolled his head to loosen his neck muscles. “It was a long day. I should probably bathe before doing anything else; I don’t want to saddle you with a smelly bedmate.”

She smiled at that, forcing her gaze away from his beautifully sculpted chest to meet his eyes. “Honestly, Haldir, has any elleth ever cared whether you bathed or not before getting into bed with her?”

He smiled also, a bit sheepishly. “I’ll just go and splash some water in my face, then. It won’t take long.” He opened a drawer of the linen closet and took a clean towel. “How was the rest of _your_ day?”

“It was fine,” she said. “I went to see Orophin. I know you told Rúmil not to, but... I thought he might need a friend, to take his mind off things.”

Haldir turned around slowly. “And? How was he?”

Filanna considered for a moment. “Not yet recovered from the blow, but once he’s calmed down, I’m sure he’ll realize that this one occurrence doesn’t define him.” She hesitated briefly. “He looks up to you very much, you know. He saw this as a chance to make you proud, and Glamion took that from him. I think that is what upsets him most of all.”

Haldir nodded slightly, sighing. “He shouldn’t seek my approval so. I have told him that many times.”

“It is understandable, though,” Filanna said. “He had a different youth than you did, Haldir. Circumstance made you his role model when he needed one most.” She lowered her eyes, blushing slightly. “I’m sorry. I have no right to meddle in your family affairs.”

“You have every right, and I don’t mind it.” He leaned over the bed and kissed her. “I know I am too critical of Orophin at times. As an adolescent he often needed correction, and old habits die hard. I will talk to him again tomorrow.” He gave her another kiss, lowering his voice. “I am going into the bathroom now to freshen up, and when I return, I plan to keep that little promise I made to you earlier.”


	29. Where The Heart Is

What exactly was said between the walls of Celeborn's chambers that day was never made public, but the rulers of Lothlórien spoke with Glamion and his brothers until the sun rose again. Orophin was summoned not long thereafter, and he entered the study demurely, ashamed of his behaviour the day before.

"Good morning, Orophin." Galadriel gave him a welcoming smile and gestured at the chair opposite her. Remarkably, her face bore no traces of the sleepless night that lay behind her. "Please be seated. Forgive my husband's absence- he had other business to attend to this morning, so your dealings will be with me alone."

Orophin sat down awkwardly at the very edge of the chair. "My lady, before you speak, I wish to ask your forgiveness for my conduct yesterday. I was not at my best behaviour, and I am sorry you had to witness it. I'll have you know that I was given a thorough chastising afterwards."

Amusement sparked in Galadriel's eyes. "By Haldir, one can only assume."

Orophin gave a wry smile. "Aye, I can always count on him to point out my shortcomings. And unfortunately, the fact that he partially raised me gives him every right to do so. My behaviour reflects upon him; too often I forget that." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "In any case, he was right, as usual. I've failed and let everyone down. My credibility is in shatters."

"Being tricked is hardly the same as failing, Orophin," Galadriel said earnestly, her tone entirely without reproach. "You have a trusting nature, and Glamion took advantage of that to achieve his goal. Your reputation yet stands, unblemished."

"My lady, I respectfully disagree. Wardens have a long memory, and this will not soon be forgotten. Glamion's schemes have borne fruit; I'll have to find peace with that."

Galadriel intertwined her fingers, gazing upon Orophin thoughtfully. "The rivalry between you two runs deep. Celeborn and I were surprised to find it so. I have never known you to be vindictive, Orophin. Tell me, is there any truth in Glamion's accusations? Have you knowingly provoked and offended him?"

Orophin lowered his eyes, finding her gaze hard to bear. "It shames me now, my lady, but I confess I have sometimes sought to anger him on purpose. Not that first time, I promise you that was an offense unconsciously committed. But I cannot deny that I carry part of the blame."

"How did it come to that?" the Lady asked. "You usually make friends easily, and I know you are not a bully. What made it so difficult to extend your hand in friendship to Glamion?"

Orophin sighed. "I wish I could tell you that, but I honestly do not know. It became a matter of pride for the both of us, I suspect. If he had taken the first step, I probably would have followed suit, but we are equally stubborn."

"So it would seem." Galadriel was silent for a few moments. "The both of you will have to try harder from here on out. I know you are capable of forgiveness, so I trust you will not fail me."

"No, my lady. I will not disappoint you again." Orophin shifted slightly on his chair. "Forgive me for asking, but did you have any success negotiating between Glamion and his brothers? I've known Rawain and Perchel for years, yet I was not aware of their estrangement."

"Theirs is a very damaged relationship," Galadriel replied, "but I wouldn't say the future is entirely without hope. Celeborn and I will stay closely involved and continue to help them resolve their issues. In addition, we have instructed Glamion to take an apprentice under his wing. He has resisted that for a long time, but I think he will soon discover that passing on one's knowledge to someone younger can be very rewarding. It will be a beneficial relationship for both mentor and pupil." She paused for a moment. "His two accomplices will also have to account for their actions, of course, but I wanted to speak with you, first. Is there anything you would like to talk to me about?"

He shook his head slowly. "No, my lady. I thank you for taking the time to meet with me, and I apologize again for my part in yesterday's events. I so very much regret the way it all turned out, for the new recruits especially. They swore their pledge to a counterfeit sword; a more inauspicious beginning of their careers is hardly possible."

Galadriel rose from her chair and walked around the table, prompting Orophin to get up also. She told him kindly, "Don't torment yourself with superstitions, Orophin. The ceremony of the sword has great traditional value, but it has no real significance. The new recruits will retake their oath today and that will be the end of the matter. No, my concern is for you. I was surprised at how profoundly these events upset you, as you are usually the first to make light of things. I sense that something else is weighing on your mind. Can you explain why you reacted the way you did?"

Orophin sighed and hung his head slightly. "It is because I had such high hopes, I suppose. Now I realize that it was foolish of me to think that I could impress my elders by performing a task that is, as you say, merely ceremonial. And I somehow managed to fail at it, nevertheless."

"But failure, if you insist on calling it that, is nothing to be ashamed of," Galadriel said. "It may hurt, but it is our mistakes, more than our successes, that allow us to grow emotionally and spiritually."

Orophin gave a crooked smile. "Haldir also said something to that effect. Valar, but it made me angry. I would so very much like to trade places with him and be his elder, even if for just one day. I would quite enjoy scolding him for his youthful follies and bestowing my wisdom upon him without being asked."

"Ah." The Lady smiled also. "Yes, I know from experience that being the youngest sibling isn't always easy. But Haldir means well by you, though he may not always be so graceful about it. Would you rather he took no interest in you whatsoever, as has been the case with Glamion's brothers?"

"No, my lady," Orophin said truthfully. "No, I would not care for that at all. I know how good his intentions are, and I also know that his criticisms are usually justified. But I wish he would occasionally show a little pride, as well." A brief pause. "He thinks me childish and frivolous. Do you agree?"

"You have a youthful spirit," Galadriel said kindly. "A valuable quality to possess, in this day and age, and I would be sad to see you lose it. However, Haldir's austerity and discipline have their merits also. In my opinion, there is much the two of you could learn from each other." She smiled. "Would you like me to speak with Haldir?"

"That won't be necessary, my lady," Orophin said. "Haldir and I have a long history of locking horns, but we are equally experienced in resolving our issues. I will speak with him today and end all this unpleasantness."

"Good, good." Galadriel took a step closer, lightly placing one graceful hand on his shoulder. "Tonight, at the dance, we honour the new wardens. It is their achievement that will be remembered, not your strife with Glamion, and I expect to see you there with your head held high."

"Yes, my lady." Orophin's face turned red. "You will not be disappointed- I promise."

xxx

Inis had faced this door before, but this time the tremble of her hand betrayed anticipation, not dread. At last her purpose was clear, at last her heart had decided; it had taken its sweet time. She could only hope that it wasn't too late.

Several moments after she had knocked, the door swung open. "Inis," Legolas said, clearly surprised to find her on his doorstep unannounced. "Good day. I... To what do I owe-"

Nervously she cut him off, clutching the cloth-wrapped package a little closer to her. "Legolas, I come to thank you for what you did for Drauglan yesterday. My son knows no fear, but my heart trembles to think what could have happened if you hadn't been there."

Legolas looked mildly embarrassed. "It was nothing, Inis, truly. Drauglan was the one who discovered the culprits, and he brought himself to safety before I even entered the picture. He is a remarkable child, but I'm sure I needn't tell you that. My role in the whole affair was very small indeed; I simply had the good fortune of being at the right place at the right time."

"Then I thank the Valar for making it so. I am glad it was you he stumbled across in the woods." She offered him the package. "Please, accept this as a token of my gratitude. I stayed up most of the night to finish it."

Legolas unwrapped her offering with a puzzled expression, exclaiming softly when he realized it was the tunic he had commissioned a few weeks earlier. After long consideration she had eventually chosen a simple yet durable fabric of a dark copper colour, an option she had discarded as too plain at first but reconsidered when she realized that he didn't need much to stand out in a crowd. His handsome features, noble bearing and sunny disposition were guaranteed to draw attention wherever he went; he didn't need some flashy garment to do that for him.

"Does it please you?" she asked him tremulously. "Is it as you hoped?"

"That, and more." Legolas admired the fine stitching, then raised his eyes to meet hers. "May I put it on?"

"Please do. I am confident the fit will be perfect, but I can make some final adjustments if need be."

While he changed shirts right there in the doorway, she found herself – for the first time – looking at his wiry torso with the eyes of an elleth instead of a seamstress's. He was of slighter build than her late husband, yes, but perhaps that was what pleased her about him- that he was different in body as well as in spirit. She and Maenion, bless him, had been quite alike in character- earnest, hard-working, somewhat withdrawn. Legolas was outgoing and knew the value of light-hearted things; Inis was quite aware, as her friends had often told her, that she needed a spoonful of that.

The tunic fit like a glove. It wrapped snugly around Legolas's waist and shoulders, the collar just wide enough to allow an enticing glimpse of his neck and upper chest. Seeing it on him, Inis secretly complimented herself on her choice of colour; it did exactly what she'd hoped, yet she made him turn around again and again, until her critical eye was satisfied. Only then did she give her verdict. "You look very handsome."

"Then I shall wear it to the party this evening," he said joyfully. He smiled in that infectious way of his, narrowing his eyes as he leaned slightly closer. "Now, if only I could persuade its maker to dance at least once with me tonight."

"I will gladly dance with you," she said promptly, her heart suddenly pounding. As the surprise on his face turned into an expression of delight, she cleared her throat softly and added, "I hope you don't mind, I... I have arranged for Drauglan to stay at a friend's place tonight- all night."

Legolas's smile wavered somewhat at that, the implication of her words hanging heavily in the air. If he was shocked by it, he didn't show it, but she wouldn't have blamed him if he had. After weeks of keeping him at arm's length, she had not just turned the key but thrown the gates to her heart wide open.

His gaze was now earnest, deprived of every hint of flirting. "I'll not lie and pretend my heart doesn't leap at this, Inis, but I do want you to be absolutely sure you are ready for such a step. I would never do anything to hurt you, but I have a duty to my father's kingdom and I must leave soon-"

"You will have to make visiting a habit, then." Not interested in hearing more of his well-intentioned but feeble protests, she stepped across the threshold, grasped his shoulders and kissed him. She had to stretch herself to the fullest, because she was petite and he was taller than most, but it didn't matter- he was willing to meet her halfway.

This was no mistake, she knew when he folded his hands around her face and kissed her with such tenderness as to make a barren heart flourish once more. No matter if she won or lost in the end- sometimes the prize was well worth the gamble.

xxx

Haldir took his role as escort very seriously, because that evening, just as dusk began to settle over the Golden Wood, he came to Filanna's talan to collect her for the dance. Uncharacteristically, she had spent almost an hour getting ready. Wanting to look her best for this particular event, she had chosen a violet dress and had put up her hair with elegant silver pins. She had even decided, be it at the last minute, to wear earrings and apply a dab of perfume. Judging by the look in Haldir's eyes when she appeared, her efforts were noted and appreciated.

"I'm sorry, have I come to the wrong place?" he said teasingly. "Breathtaking though you may be, strange lady, my arm is already spoken for tonight." He bowed courteously, but his eyes stayed on her. "Filanna, you have never looked more beautiful."

"Don't get too used to it. I'll be back shovelling horse manure in the morning." She made a face at him and he laughed, offering her his arm as they set out together.

"Is there any news?" she asked him while they made their way down one of the city's winding stairs. He had, again, spent most of the day dealing with the aftermath of the conspiracy and she was curious, though she did not like to pry.

He told her what he knew, which wasn't much, as Celeborn and Galadriel had handled the affair with the utmost discretion. Their decree that Glamion should become more involved in the community and start teaching youngsters constituted the most substantial bit of news.

"The Lord and Lady have great wisdom," Filanna said. "Glamion has much to teach, so it is only right that he should have an apprentice." She paused and glanced at his face. "Tell me, though, have you spoken with Orophin today?"

"Not yet," Haldir replied, "but I expect we shall be seeing him at the dance. Even after everything that's happened, Orophin wouldn't pass up a night of merriment."

She squeezed his arm gently. "You won't mind if I spare him a dance, will you?"

"Not at all. I don't expect to be the only one vying for your attention tonight." He gave her a look askance and winked. "But I do hope I'll be the one taking you home afterwards."

By the time they descended the last flight of steps and reached the forest floor, Filanna was still holding his arm. He didn't seem to mind it, even though he was generally reluctant to show affection in public- at least he gave that impression. She didn't hold that against him, for she had had the same inhibitions for many years. Today, however, she was proud to walk at his side, to be seen with him. And yet, as they approached the clearing where the festivities were to take place, she found herself selfishly wishing to be alone with him just a few moments longer.

"Haldir," she asked, "are we in a great hurry to get there? I would very much like to stroll like this a little longer, while it is light still. The forest is so lovely at this hour."

"I suppose we can delay," he replied. "The night is yet young."

They took a turn, leaving the well-trodden path behind them and heading into a quieter part of the forest. Very soon, the distant sounds of revelry faded until all that could be heard was the rustling foliage overhead and crickets chirping, a sound she had come to associate with summer. The birds were already silent, and Haldir and Filanna's leisurely stroll caused no disturbance either, the soil dry beneath their feet.

"I wonder if it will it ever rain again," Filanna remarked. "I can't remember ever having seen such a long dry spell in Mirkwood."

"The climate is different here," Haldir said. "Our summers are often warm and dry, but when it does rain, it pours. Come the autumn showers, I guarantee you will find yourself fondly reminiscing these feverish summer days."

"I doubt it not." She became pensive. "There is so much for me to learn still. It is hard to believe I've only been here four months- it feels like a much longer time. I had not expected to become as fond of Lórien as I have, and so quickly at that. It's taken me by surprise. I worry about that sometimes, Haldir. I don't want to leave here, but I cannot forsake my family either."

Haldir was silent for a while, keeping his eyes on the trees ahead. "The choice is ultimately yours. Should you decide to stay, I shall be glad, but I would not be so selfish as to fall to my knees and beg you to stay on my behalf. I know that if I did, you may eventually come to resent me for it."

A sigh escaped her. It was a painful subject and she regretted bringing it up in the first place. "Well, there is no need to decide just yet. Leaving is out of the question until Mithrenfin recovers. Many moons may go by before he is fit enough to make the journey to Mirkwood."

Night was now spreading its mantle over the Golden Wood, the crescent moon appearing as a silvery sickle against the darkening expanse of sky. As they went on, Filanna spotted the first glow worms in the underbrush, and she pointed them out to Haldir. They made it a sport to count as many as they could, until they stumbled across a pond in which dozens, perhaps hundreds of glow worms could be seen. They spent a few silent minutes taking in the sight, while Filanna felt her heart expanding, thankful for everything that Lórien had given her. She did not want to turn back. Not yet.

She touched his arm. "Let's make love," she said, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

"What?" He looked at her incredulously. "Do you jest?"

Shaking her head, she took his hands and stepped back until she found a sturdy tree to lean against. Before her mind's eye rose again the image of the two unknown lovers whose passionate coupling she had witnessed weeks earlier. The memory of it – the male's thrusting hips, the elleth's cries of rapture – still stirred something deep within. Here, in the very heart of the forest, with only the moon for a witness, she longed to recreate some of that passion for herself- with him and no other.

"Please," she entreated, wishing she knew the right words to convey just how deeply she desired this. Never before had she experienced a longing so acute. It would likely mess up her toilette some, but she wanted to join with him, right there and then, consequences be damned. "I need you inside me," she told him in a breathless whisper.

She felt his resistance crumbling as he placed one hand on her waist, the other on the trunk of the tree behind her. His breath caressed her temple hotly. "Filanna..."

When she hiked up the front of her skirt, he slid his hand between her legs, somewhat hesitantly at first, as though expecting her to have second thoughts. To assure him otherwise, she angled herself against him and reached down to touch him, feeling him respond through the cloth of his breeches. His breathing deepened, and a small sigh of surprise escaped his lips when his fingers found her already quite prepared, slipping inside without trouble. He pushed in deep, at the same time aligning his mouth with her ear. "You'll not regret this later?"

"Not in a million years." She kissed him below his ear, grazing the lobe with her teeth. " _Please_ , Haldir."

With a groan, Haldir leaned back slightly and reached down to open his breeches. "Touch me," he instructed hoarsely and she willingly obeyed, taking his hardening shaft in hand and stroking it until he was fully erect. He lifted one of her legs and guided it around his waist, helping her adjust her stance to create the right angle. Then he poised himself at her entrance and pushed inside in one firm stroke, her name bursting from his lips as he did so.

After their first coupling, a few days earlier, the two of them had become completely immersed in one another, as new lovers often do. Filanna even feared she had been somewhat neglectful of her brother and friends because of it, and she wasn't proud of that, but Haldir was, for the time being at least, all she could think about. Overcome by a hunger that seemed insatiable, they had coupled numerous times over the course of the past few days, but Filanna found that the exhilaration of the experience only grew over time instead of waning. After all, her confidence grew, and with it her willingness to shed the inhibitions that had long defined her. She had not come here tonight with the intention of seducing him, but once he began moving inside her – dear Elbereth – she knew she was going to reap some sweet rewards for her spontaneity.

Granted, it wasn't exactly the most comfortable position to be in: pinned between his body and the unyielding tree behind her – the rugged bark of which pressed somewhat painfully into her back – she balanced precariously on the toes of one foot while he pushed her other leg higher still to achieve deeper penetration. But it didn't matter; she was strong and athletic enough to handle it, and, as it turned out, much bendier than she had ever known. In this position, it was him doing all the work; she could only hold on for dear life and grasp whatever she could reach to pull him closer to her.

Haldir became very aroused very quickly; his damp brow was furrowed in concentration, and for once he seemed to have difficulty restraining himself. No matter how urgent their lovemaking, he always made sure she reached her peak first or, ideally, at the same time as him. Self-restraint was a quality he valued highly, and he had cultivated and honed it almost to perfection, but now it seemed on the verge of breaking. It was an exhilarating thing to see, and although Filanna appreciated how considerate a lover he was, this time, in this setting, she longed for him to lose control.

"Let go," she implored, catching her breath between thrusts, "I want you to let go." She regretted sullying the moment with words, but he had to know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he needn't rein himself in on her account.

His grey eyes met hers and a desperate groan escaped his throat. He reached between her legs with his free hand, the fingers finding her hidden bud, swollen with arousal- but it was stimulation she didn't really need. Abandoning all restraint, he managed to thrust into her six, seven, eight times more before he shuddered and released his seed deep inside her, shouting out as he did so. It was an almost animalistic sound, and her body responded to it on some primal level, her inner muscles clamping down on him as she, too, experienced a glorious climax.

"Gods...!" Utterly spent, Haldir released her crampy leg and sank slowly to his knees, as if all strength had drained from his legs. Breathing heavily, he sat with his hands braced upon his thighs, his still-swollen sex jutting forward aggressively. She waited, unmoving, even though her legs trembled also. Her heart was pounding and the heat of sexual ecstacy was still rushing through her veins, warming her to the very tips of her toes.

Finally he looked up. "Behold, princess," he said with a small, ironical smile. "You have brought a Marchwarden of Lórien to his knees. There aren't many who can boast of that fact."

She knelt in front of him, taking his hand and kissing it before pressing her cheek against the palm. "Don't worry," she said with a soft giggle, "we will keep your secret, the moon and I."

xxx

When they joined the festivities not much later – in high spirits and, no doubt, suspiciously bright-eyed – Filanna soon spotted some of her friends in the crowd and went to greet them, promising to return to Haldir's side for the first dance.

His mind still very much on that incredibly erotic encounter by the pond, Haldir felt profoundly content as he moved through the crowd at his leisure, greeting acquaintances as he went. To his great surprise, Glamion was also present, although the farrier looked chagrined and out of place, the desire to fade into the background written plainly across his face. The other revellers seemed to purposely avoid him, and Haldir, who felt a strange pity for the tormented ellon, briefly toyed with the idea of approaching him, fully aware that he would probably receive a sneer for his trouble. But then he saw that someone else had had the same idea- none other than Orophin was making a beeline for his old nemesis.

There weren't many Geledhil left who didn't know the story of Glamion's sabotage, and all those in the direct vicinity watched with bated breath as Orophin strode up to the farrier and spoke to him briefly. No one stood within hearing distance, but all could see clearly how Orophin thrust out his hand, which Glamion eventually took with obvious reluctance. The result was a somewhat terse handshake that caused a tangible ripple of relief among the onlookers, many of whom had feared an unpleasant confrontation. As Orophin turned and walked away, his gaze crossed Haldir's, and he came towards him.

There was an awkward moment once they stood face to face, their argument from the day before not yet forgotten. "Well, that wasn't exactly pleasant," Orophin said at last, attempting to strike a light tone. "I'd rather shake hands with a jellyfish than repeat what I just did."

"You did the right thing," Haldir said earnestly. "I am very proud of you."

Orophin shrugged, looking sheepish. "Brother, I'm sorry."

"I am, too." Haldir paused, struggling to voice his feelings. "I know I am too harsh on you sometimes, Orophin. Showing affection doesn't come easy to me. But we are of the same flesh, the same blood. You are my little brother and I love you, nothing can change that."

"Enough, enough already." In a rare moment of embarrassment, Orophin grasped Haldir's forearm and the two siblings came together in a rough, one-armed hug, pounding each other's backs as they did so.

They were watched from a distance by Glamion, whose charcoal eyes betrayed little. Filanna, who stood nearby with two of her close friends, couldn't help but wonder if Haldir and Orophin's reconciliation was a disappointment to him.

"Ellyn and their silly pride," Aelwen sighed, shaking her head in wonderment. "Poor Glamion, I cannot help but feel for him. He must be very lonely and unhappy."

"You have such a soft heart, Aelwen." Mereniel elbowed her friend gently in the ribs. "Perhaps you should go over there and talk to him then, eh?"

"I think I will," Aelwen said earnestly. "Everyone deserves a second chance, no matter what they've done."

Haldir and Orophin spoke for a few minutes before going their separate ways. The musicians had taken their place by now and were tuning their instruments, sign that the opening dance would soon begin. Already people were moving aside, thus creating an open space at the centre of the clearing that allowed for dancing. The atmosphere was one of merry exuberance, and Haldir observed his fellow Geledhil with amusement, taking pleasure in their joy. He usually didn't care much for gatherings like these, but tonight, he was looking forward to every moment.

"Haldir, a word?"

Looking up at the sound of his name, Haldir was surprised to find Turnion at his side, and greeted him without much enthusiasm. The head of the healers' guild was no particular friend of his, as he had long refused to lend his support to a proposition Haldir wished to put before the Council. Its design was to implement a revolutionary training program that would eventually enable every warden to perform emergency treatment in the field, a skill that – as Haldir strongly believed – could mean the difference between life and death. It was a strong argument, one he had used many times in his attempts at winning Turnion's support, but without success. Turnion had never admitted it, but Haldir strongly suspected that the healer simply didn't like him very much.

"First, allow me congratulate you on a successful event," Turnion said. "A fine selection of eager young recruits to send to the front, Haldir. Let us hope none of them end up on our operating tables."

"They will be trained well," Haldir said stiffly, taking offense at the healer's mildly sarcastic tone. "You asked for a word, so kindly state your business, Turnion."

Turnion held up his hand in a placating manner. "I am not here to do business. This is neither the right place nor the right time. I promised a lady the first dance and I'm sure you did, too. But, if it please you, come by my office tomorrow morning so that we can speak in private. I think we may come to an agreement this time."

Haldir regarded the healer skeptically. "An agreement? Surely you jest."

"I am deadly serious."

"Forgive my cynical response, but I find that hard to believe," Haldir said. "You have opposed my plan for years, very tenaciously so. A change of heart would hardly be credible at this point."

Turnion shrugged. "I was given information that shed some new light on the case. The numbers don't lie."

"What information?" Haldir grew ever more confused. "Why have I not heard... Who approached you?"

"I am not sure if I am at liberty to reveal her name," Turnion said, as an enigmatic smile appeared on his face. "But if you think carefully for a moment, I'm sure it will come to you."

Haldir had no answer to that. Involuntarily, his eyes strayed across the clearing, looking for Filanna, but how could she have gotten involved without his knowledge? He couldn't recall ever having told her about his ongoing struggle with the healers' guild. And if she did know... how on earth had Filanna, who was so timid and lacking in confidence, managed to persuade a hard-headed elf like Turnion?

"Until tomorrow then, Marchwarden. I bid you a very pleasant evening." Turnion made to leave, but paused at the last moment. "By the by... I realize it is none of my business, Haldir, but I advise you to hold on to this one, if you can. She is quite a find."

For a short while, Haldir stood in a daze, remembering too late to return Turnion's adieu. Seeing that the first couples were starting to gather on the dance floor spurred him into action, and he began making his way through the crowd, craning his neck as he searched for the one in violet. He did not see her; in fact, she seemed suddenly to have vanished into thin air, and for a brief moment Haldir had the irrational, but deeply frightening thought that perhaps she had never been there in the first place. What if she was but a figment of his imagination? What if the past few months had been but a dream? His heart leapt into his throat, his mouth dry like sandpaper.

Suddenly she was right in front of him, as if she had been there the whole time. Clearly puzzled by his agitation, she gazed up at him with a sweet expression of concern. "What happened to you? You look like you've seen a fiery demon of death."

He didn't know what exactly he had been planning to do up until that point, but now that he had her within arm's reach, he lifted her into his embrace and held her tightly, uncaring of what possible onlookers might think. She was here and she was his, and the happiness he felt at that fact prompted the words that had been stuck in his throat for days to roll off his tongue at last.

"Valar, I love you," he said, kissing her again and again until he ran out of breath. "I'm sorry I waited so long to tell you that. I wanted to say it earlier, at the pond, and a thousand times before, but it never seemed like the right moment."

Filanna mewled softly, too surprised to give an intelligent response. It wasn't until he put her down that she found her speech again. "Haldir, what... why..."

"I just had an interesting conversation with Turnion," Haldir said, watching her face closely. "Can you guess what he said?"

"Oh." A blush of understanding rose in her cheeks. "Did he agree to support your proposition before the Council?"

He chuckled. "Not quite yet, but he gave me reason to hope, which is a victory all in itself. Tomorrow we shall meet and discuss the matter further."

She gasped softly, a smile of exuberant joy coming to her face. "Oh, how wonderful! I was afraid to believe- it seemed such a hopeless case."

"It was, until a few minutes ago." He put his hands around her face, that lovely face that embodied all that had become so dear to him. "Filanna, how did you do this? How did you know?"

She quickly explained to him how the whole thing had come to pass, not forgetting to give her brother the credit he deserved. "Legolas helped me with everything. Without his encouragement, I wouldn't have gone through with it."

"Then I will thank him also," Haldir said, smiling, "although perhaps in a slightly less enthusiastic manner. The two of you did Lothlórien a great service, Filanna. What I still don't know is why."

She shrugged. "I did it for you."

"Why?"

"Because it was important to you, and..." She blushed deeply, glancing down at the ground before meeting his gaze again. "Because evidently, I feel the same way about you." It seemed that she, too, had been brooding on the words, and that she was just as relieved to have them out in the open. She cleared her throat and said, this time without blushing, "I love you, Haldir."

Haldir started to smile, but before he could say anything in return, the band's violinist took the floor.

"Pair up, pair up!" he called. "The first dance will begin shortly. Ellyn, take your favourite elleth by the hand. And ladies, give those poor fellows a chance. Now is the time to rejoice and make merry. Lady Galadriel, will you and Lord Celeborn set the example?"

Galadriel nodded and placed her hand in Celeborn's. Together they entered the dance floor, an image of grace and beauty that filled all those who saw it with joy.

"They are so beautiful together, aren't they?" Filanna said, in awe, as the ruling pair got in position and Celeborn bowed gallantly to his spouse before taking her in his arms. "And Lord Celeborn dances so well."

"I like to think I have some skill, myself," Haldir said and he held out his hand, palm up. "Shall we?"

She nodded happily and put her fingers in his palm. As they approached the centre of the clearing she saw many pairs doing likewise. Among them were Bereth and Curuvir, Legolas and Inis, and Rúmil and Gwenél. Aelwen had even succeeded in ensnaring Glamion, who avoided eye contact with everyone but was to be commended for participating, be it only at the insistence of a pretty elleth who didn't take no for an answer.

Haldir leaned in close, murmuring, "Why are you smiling?"

"Because I am happy," she replied truthfully, for her heart felt near bursting. "And I just realized... I can't remember what I used to be so angry about all the time. What did we argue about, Haldir?"

"I believe," Haldir said lightly, "that you took great offense at the thought of becoming yet another notch in my bedpost. Since that is no longer an issue, we shall have to find other things to quarrel about."

Filanna laughed but said no more, because at that moment the band began to play a lively tune that was met by whoops of approval. As she gazed around at the happy faces of the Galadhrim, many of whom had become dear to her in the past months, she felt proud and privileged to be one of them.

This was Lothlórien, the heart of Elvendom on Earth, where elves had silver hair and grey eyes and spoke with an accent. A beautiful land that gave beautiful things to those who came with an open mind and heart. Filanna had come expecting little, but she had been blessed with gifts all the same, each more precious than the next. Mirkwood was still in her blood, and that would never change, but no matter what the future would bring, a part of her heart was now forever tied to Lórien.

Haldir was looking at her, an expectant smile on his face. She returned the smile and stepped into his arms so that they could join the other dancing pairs. There was so much more she wanted to talk to him about, so much more she wanted to learn about him, about loving someone and about life, but not tonight. Tonight was for dancing and music and friends, and tomorrow life in Lórien would resume its normal course.

There was much to look forward to.


	30. Epilogue: The King's Halls

_Several years later._

 

Haldir had visited Thranduil’s halls before in a distant past, but never as a personal guest of the royal family. This time he was allowed in rooms that had been closed to him before, to dine at the family table and to participate in the rowdy card games the princes liked to play after dinner. The King and Queen doted on their children and participated in those evening gatherings as often as they were able, and the interaction was loving and informal. To be part of this tight family unit was to sink into a warm and welcoming nest, and Haldir found to his surprise that there was a place in it for him also.

One thing that required some adjustments on Haldir’s part were the cats. The royal family were cat enthusiasts all, and at least a dozen such animals roamed Thranduil’s halls freely, earning their keep as mouse hunters. Haldir didn’t dislike cats per se, but he wasn’t used to their constant company, wasn’t used to having to check every chair before sitting down in them, and when he found a grey tabby on the bed one evening, he’d just about had it.

“Filanna!” he called. “There is a _cat_ on our _bed_.”

Filanna, who had been combing her hair in the adjoining bathroom, wandered inside, comb still in hand. “What of it?” she asked. “Elrond is no nuisance, and he hardly sheds this time of year.”

Haldir looked at her, wondering if he’d heard wrong. “Would you care to repeat that?”

She giggled self-consciously. “We call that one Elrond, because... he bears an uncanny resemblance to the Imladris lord. He gets the same look of disapproval on his face sometimes.”

“Lovely.” Haldir’s lip curled. “I’m sorry, Filanna, but the cat has to go. I can’t love my princess the way she deserves to be loved with those eyes following my every move.”

“Oh, all right. If his presence bothers you, I’ll put him outside in the corridor in a minute.”

He watched her move over to the bed and pet the cat affectionately, his resolve softening at the sight. The Galadhrim did not keep cats for pets – in fact, they hardly kept pets at all – and he knew how fond Filanna was of animals.

He sighed. “Fine, the cat can stay. But don’t expect me to call him Elrond. This conversation has already put unwelcome images in my head as it is.”

His reward was another giggle, a warm kiss on his mouth and a whispered promise of more rewards to come, which caused his mood to improve instantly. Cat or no cat, Filanna always made good on her promises.

Another time, as Filanna was giving him a tour of the palace, they came across a large painting that captured Haldir’s interest. It was a well done portrait of the royal family; the Queen was seated at the front, her husband standing behind her, and they were surrounded by their seven children.

“Come on, there is more to see,” Filanna said. “It’s just a silly portrait, Haldir.”

“It’s not silly.” Haldir would not be rushed, and he took a step closer to study the lifelike expressions on the canvas. The artist had captured them well, down to the mischievous spark in the King’s eyes and Filanna’s somewhat forced smile. “You did not enjoy sitting for this, did you?”

“Not at all. And what is worse...” She smiled. “Soon we shall all have to sit for a new one.”

Their visit to Mirkwood, although long overdue, was not without its reason. Almost a year earlier, Legolas – who paid regular visits to the Golden Wood – had brought the happy tiding that the Queen was with child, and it was unthinkable that Filanna would not return home for the birth. Haldir had requested a leave of absence to accompany her, and the Lord and Lady had granted it without a moment’s hesitation. The last time he had been away from Lórien for an extended period of time, it was to accompany his mother to the Grey Havens. He was glad that the occasion was a happier one this time, and he found himself truly enjoying the change of scenery and the diversions of the court. He could easily see why Filanna had been so reluctant to leave the family nest, and frankly, with a new babe on the way, he had no idea what she would decide once the time came for him to return to Lórien. Should she wish to stay behind, he would have to be strong and unselfish enough to let her, and he was already steeling himself for that possibility. They had spent some wonderful years together – years that had introduced him to the great joys and small sorrows of love – but perhaps their story wasn’t meant to continue, no matter how badly he wished it to.

***

One night, Filanna and Haldir were awakened by an elf of the court, who told them in whispered tones that the Queen’s labour had begun. Filanna was out of bed in a flash, wasting no time in getting dressed, and was surprised when he followed her example.

“You don’t have to come with me,” she told him. “It may be hours before the babe arrives. You can catch a few more winks.”

“Filanna,” he patiently replied, “I came here with you to welcome your new brother or sister into the world, not to sleep through it all. I would like to come with you, unless you think my presence would be considered inappropriate.”

She gave him a smile, touched that he wanted to be part of this. “Not at all, love. The more, the merrier, as Ada would say. I will be glad to have you there with me.”

The King and Queen’s private quarters were a crowded place this night, filled with the air of excitement and nervousness that accompanies every birth. It seemed that all personnel was up and about, and Filanna and Haldir joined the other princes and princesses in one of the adjoining rooms, preparing themselves to keep vigil.

The atmosphere was a merry one at first, as the older siblings shared their memories of the last time they had sat together like this, in the night of Filanna’s birth.

“And look at her now, sitting here with the handsome Marchwarden at her side,” Ameria teased. “Time sure has flown.”

Later, as the hours crawled slowly by, the assembly grew quiet and pensive. The Queen had already borne seven children successfully, but no birth was entirely without risk, and the wait was long. The King himself had come out a few times to tell them how things were progressing, but his last update was now hours ago. To while the time away, Filanna’s sisters took up needlework, while the brothers played a quiet game of chess. Filanna eventually dozed off where she sat, her head lolling against Haldir’s shoulder. Haldir, used to waking as he was, held her hand and calmly waited for things to unfold.

Finally, shortly after daybreak, the door opened once more and Thranduil appeared with a small bundle in his arms. He looked somewhat ruffled, but he was smiling and gazed upon his band of seven with deep affection. “All is well, children. Come and meet your new brother.”

They all smiled with relief and rose to their feet, coming at the King with barely suppressed excitement. The tiny prince was awake, looking somewhat rumpled still from the ordeal of birth, but he couldn’t have been more perfect in Filanna’s eyes. Of course she would have welcomed a sister also, but in her heart she had secretly hoped for a little brother.

“Oh, Ada, he is precious,” Ameria said, as she softly stroked one of the elfling’s tiny fists. “And look at all that hair, so dark!”

“Filanna had hair like that when she was born, remember?” Darwain remarked.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Saelwen said. “Filanna looked almost exactly the same when Ada presented her.”

Thranduil nodded. “Yes, all you children came into this world with hair spun of gold, except Filanna. Your little brother, it seems, takes after her.”

“Valar help us,” Legolas groaned, and all laughed good-naturedly at that, Filanna included.

“How is Naneth?” Rínion asked.

“Tired, but well. Childbirth is no small matter, but she amazes me every time. She has given me seven beautiful children already, and now we are so blessed as to expand our litter one last time.” The King’s eyes glimmered as he gazed at his sons and daughters. “When we started our family, we never thought there would be so many of you, but as our family expanded, so did our hearts. Your Naneth and I love you all so very much-- don’t ever doubt that.” He looked down at the swaddled newborn in his arms. “This little one makes our family complete. We have four lovely daughters and four handsome sons, what more could we ask for?”

Dineth dabbed at her eyes discreetly, and even Filanna had to bite her lip to keep it from wobbling, for it tugged on her heartstrings to see her father emotional.

“So quiet, Marchwarden,” Rínion remarked. “Pray, what think you of the new prince?”

“‘Tis a fetching little babe, to be sure,” Haldir said. “You and the Queen are to be congratulated, Lord Thranduil.”

“I thank you, Haldir,” Thranduil said warmly. “You have been a valued guest these few weeks, and I consider you part of this family also. I hope that my son may benefit from your many qualities as he grows up.”

If Haldir had been an elf prone to blushing, he surely would have turned scarlet at the King’s flattering words. Instead he inclined his head in acknowledgment, looking slightly flustered. “My Lord.”

The King turned to Filanna then. “Well, Fila-nîn, we now look to you. With the exception of Rínion, who is eldest, all of you have been named by the sibling who came before them.”

Haldir looked at Filanna in surprise. “Is this true? I didn’t know that.”

Several of the princes and princesses nodded. “Oh yes, ‘tis true,” Filanna said with a grim smile. “I was named by Legolas, who was not yet thirty years old at the time, after a heroine from one of his favourite bedtime stories. Delightful, isn’t it?”

Legolas and Thranduil confirmed this with near-identical grins. “Aye, and I still stand by it,” Legolas said. “The name suits you, Filly.”

“And now,” Thranduil said, “Filanna may herself bestow a name on the newest member of our family. Have you decided, or do you need more time?”

“No, Ada, I’ve already given it due thought,” Filanna said quietly. “I’ve just the name, but you may veto it, of course. I’m not sure if you’ll like the idea.”

Thranduil gave her an encouraging nod. “Go on.”

“Orophel.” She blushed. “After his late grandsire, and... after someone who was a friend to me when I needed one most.” She glanced at Haldir. “If you don’t mind?”

Haldir smiled and shook his head. “Orophin will be thrilled, I’m sure.”

“So it shall be.” Thranduil reached out to touch Filanna’s cheek gently, and she could see that her proposal had moved him. “Would you like to hold him, Fila-nîn?”

She smiled and caressed the dark tuft of hair on top of the elfling’s head. The little one’s eyes settled on her for a few short moments before dropping shut. “Not right now, Ada. He looks quite content where he is, in your arms. We will have our chance to bond, he and I.”

“Can we see Naneth?” Saelwen asked.

“Of course, but very briefly,” Thranduil said, amusement in his eye. “The seven of you can be a boisterous lot, and she doesn’t need that kind of excitement right now.”

Filanna’s eyes met Haldir’s, and he nodded. “This is where I take a step back, Filanna,” he said. “You go along with your siblings, I will wait here.”

She gave him a smile and looked up at her father. “Ada, may I speak with you later? I realize the timing may not be perfect, but I have a few things to discuss with you.”

“Of course, daughter. Come to my study when it suits you, I will make the time.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Let’s go and tuck the little one in. He needs sleep and his mother’s milk to grow up big and strong, like his siblings.”

***

That afternoon, entering the sanctuary that was her father’s study, Filanna was struck by how little had changed between these four walls. The heavy bookshelves, the maps and drawings on the walls, the many souvenirs from the King’s travels, they were all still there. Since she was a young elleth, she had enjoyed coming here, leafing through old books and admiring the strange artefacts from distant realms.

“That will be all for now, Rhovandir,” Thranduil told his clerk. “You may leave us.”

The elf bowed and took his leave, closing the door quietly behind him. Filanna approached the desk smiling, gesturing at the ginger cat on her father’s lap. “I see old Whiskers is with us still.”

Thranduil petted the cat, who purred and clawed the King’s robe in response. “Yes, he’s an old chap, too old to go after mice now, but he likes to keep me company while I work. Sit, Fila-nîn, tell me what is on your mind.”

She did as bidden. “It concerns my plans for the future.”

“I thought it might.” He nodded. “Speak, then.”

“I...” She joined her hands in her lap, speaking with some reluctance. “I so very much enjoy being back here, Ada, because I have missed you all terribly these past few years. It is difficult for me to tell you this, because the last thing I want is to cause you grief, but once Haldir’s leave of absence ends, I will be going back to Lórien with him.”

Thranduil’s reaction was not what she had expected; he smiled, albeit a little wistfully. “I fully expected that, Filanna. You are very happy in Lórien, are you not?”

“Yes, Ada,” she wholeheartedly replied. “It truly is the fairest of elven realms, and the Galadhrim are so kind. I have made good friends there, and I enjoy what I do. I give archery lessons to children, and I work in the stables, although not as much now as I used to. I have taken an interest in veterinary healing, and have been accepted as an apprentice. We are currently looking for ways to reduce colic, and have had some success by trying different diets. Some weeks ago I have helped a mare through a problematic foaling; that was the best experience yet.”

Thranduil smiled again, more broadly this time, and with unconcealed pride. “That is wonderful, Filanna. I can only imagine how fulfilling that much be; I know how much you have always loved horses, and I am glad that Lórien has given you a purpose that Mirkwood could not provide. Of course you must return and continue doing what you love.”

The spark that had come to Filanna’s eye as she spoke faded. “But... I hate being away from home, Ada. I miss you all so very much, and now with the new babe... It will not be easy for me to leave.”

“I know, daughter, and it will be equally hard for us to see you go.” Thranduil looked at her with sympathy. “Do you know what our first thought was, when your mother and I found out that we were blessed with child again? We feared you might think we wished to replace you, to fill the void with new life.”

Filanna’s eyes moistened. “Oh, Ada, I wish you hadn’t. I love my little brother, and would never think of him that way. In all my life, I never felt that I had to compete with my siblings for your affection, because you so generously bestow it on all of us.”

“That gladdens me.” The King smiled and reached for Filanna’s hand. “Little Orophel will never replace you in our hearts and minds, and there will always be a seat for you at our table. And, it goes without saying, for Haldir as well.”

She gave him a wobbly smile. “Ada, do you mean it?”

“Would I joke about such a thing?” Thranduil narrowed his eyes. “It gives a father great joy to see his child happy, and you, Fila-nîn, have positively blossomed. If the Marchwarden is responsible for that, I owe him my gratitude. You love him, don’t you?”

She blushed, just a little. “Yes, Ada, with all my heart.”

“Well, there you go. And for that reason he shall always be welcome here. And should you ever wish to bring some of your Lórien friends, they will be welcome also, and I shall be glad to meet them.”

She rose to her feet and embraced him with great affection. “You are the very best Ada,” she told him earnestly, kissing him on the cheek. “I promise you I will visit often, so that Orophel doesn’t forget who I am.”

“Don’t worry, Fila-nîn.” Thranduil’s voice was thick, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “He will grow up knowing his big sister, who gave him his name and dwells in the mellyrn of Lothlórien, doing the family name honour.”

***

That night, after dinner, Haldir and Filanna returned to their rooms earlier than usual, both longing for a more private evening this time. Their entry woke the cat Elrond, who had been napping on one of the chairs. Haldir had become accustomed to the cat’s presence, had spent some time petting him and had even had his hand licked by the rough little tongue. The only thing he insisted on was that the cat not be allowed on the bed while they were in it, a compromise Filanna had accepted with a suggestive smile.

“I haven’t thanked you yet for sitting with us last night,” she said, turning her back to him and lifting her hair. “Would you mind?”

“I was glad to do it,” he said as he began opening her dress, unable to resist leaning in to kiss her exposed neck. “I enjoy sharing things with you, Filanna; that shouldn’t come as a surprise anymore.”

“And you enjoy spending time with my family?”

“That, too.” He kissed her again, sliding his hand into her dress to caress her back and hearing her sigh in response. “Although I like having you to myself now and then.”

She leaned into him, one hand wandering down to stroke the hardening bulge between his legs. “You have me to yourself every night. Sometimes more than once, even. And so it will be for a long time to come, I hope.”

His hands stilled momentarily. His heart pounded, and not just with the lust she stirred in him. “You... you will come back to Lórien with me, then?”

“Did you ever doubt it?” When she glanced over her shoulder and saw his face, she turned around and put her arms around his neck. “Of course I am going back with you, silly one. You will not be rid of me that easily. But you will have to become accustomed to the idea of sharing me on occasion, for Mirkwood will always have a claim on me.”

“I can live with that.” He held and kissed her with great tenderness, trying not to show how much relief her words gave him. “I have no intention of keeping you away from your family, Filanna, so we will make it work. I promise you that.”

She smiled and stepped out of her gown, backing away from him seductively as she removed the pins from her hair. “Come, my love, join me on the bed. I have a few needs that require seeing to.”

He grinned and began to undress. “I am ready to oblige, my lady.”

“Not quite yet,” she said, with a measuring glance at his half-erect sex as it appeared from his breeches. “But we’ll have that amended in no time.”

When Haldir stood fully naked, he took a moment’s pause and looked at the cat, who was gazing up at him grumpily and without blinking.

Haldir said, “What are you looking at, Elrond, you old pervert?” On the bed, Filanna burst out laughing, a sound he loved above all others. Oh, but that he would always be able to make her laugh! With a self-satisfied grin, he turned his back on the cat and joined Filanna on the bed, feeling more than pleased with himself when she wrapped her delicious body around him.

“Now,” he murmured against her still-chuckling mouth, “tell me what needs you require taken care of, sweet one, and I will seek to satisfy.”

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed the story, please take a moment to review. It will be very much appreciated.


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